Uncertainty
by mentalcollabs
Summary: Slightly AU: Set after 5.1. Red John remains at large. Lorelei is killed in prison by Red John, leaving no clues and no leads. Jane and Lisbon reconsider their relationship in light of the uncertainty. Hurt/comfort/friendship with a dusting of angst. Jane and Lisbon; Pete, Sam and Al Turner (carny friends); Lisbon's team
1. Chapter 1 - The Barbeque

**Who: Jane, Lisbon; Pete, Sam and Al Turner; and, eventually, Lisbon's team**

**What: A Fourth of July barbeque with Jane's carny friends goes horribly wrong**

**When: Post 5.1, when Lorelei is illegally diverted to a Federal supermax prison by the FBI or Homeland**

**Where: Carson Springs carny layover location; Sacramento**

**Why: Slightly AU: Red John remains at large. Lorelei is killed in prison by Red John, leaving no clues and no leads. Jane and Lisbon reconsider their relationship in light of the uncertainty. Hurt/comfort/friendship with a dusting of angst.  
**

This is a joint collaboration between janesbiotch and LouiseKurylo.

* * *

**Uncertainty**

**Chapter 1: The Barbeque**

**Traveling**

Jane pulled up to Lisbon's townhouse at about 10 a.m., glad the case was over so it wouldn't derail their holiday, not to mention his other plans. When she didn't answer the doorbell or his knock, he let himself in with the key Lisbon gave him a few months back. The music was a little loud. He assumed it was so she could hear it over the mixer and exhaust fan as she cooked. _Baked_, he corrected himself as enticing smells wafted from the kitchen.

"Jane!" she exclaimed, startled as he put his arms around her waist and nuzzled her shoulder. "Damn it! Don't sneak up on me."_ At least I didn't shriek._

"Hey, there, Beautiful-

"–Jane," she said, voice dangerous.

"–Merely a statement of fact," he countered smoothly.

"What part of inappropriate don't you get?" she asked a bit more sharply than intended, always afraid he'd say something like that at work.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Lisbon." He let a little exasperation show through. Holding up her key, "Uh, mixed messages, here."

"No, emergency key left with a friend."

"Yeah, like Cho, and Rigsby, and Van Pelt," he grumbled under his breath. Then, not wanting to start an argument – or continue an old one, he asked, "Pies done? They smell like it," he said, answering his own question eyeing the four pies cooling on a rack.

"Yeah. Just cleaning up. I'll change and we can go." She tossed down the dish towel, gave him a quick kiss and ran upstairs to change.

Pete and Sam had invited them to their Fourth of July barbeque. The barbeque was possible because they were taking a year off from the carny circuit till Pete's knee replacement fully healed. Jane frowned, worry resurfacing about how they would manage when Pete – and Sam, too – simply got too old to handle six months on the road for the circuit, not to mention the heavy labor involved for Pete in setting up and breaking down the carnival rides and infrastructure fifty times a season. Checking on how Pete was doing was one reason he accepted their invitation. The other reason had just bounced down the last steps and ducked into the kitchen. Jane had every intention of thoroughly enjoying the date with Lisbon. He thought of it as a date, though he hadn't been brave (foolhardy?) enough to call it that to Lisbon's face since she still tended to be skittish at anything hinting at their evolving relationship.

A slow grin broke over his face as he looked her up and down, enjoying the rare sight of her in shorts and a sleeveless blouse. She flushed and nodded her appreciation in return at the atypical sight of Jane in shorts, polo shirt, and – miracle of God – casual shoes.

"You'll do," she kissed him again, a real kiss this time. Looking him over critically, "You still look like crap-"

"-Thanks-"

"–from the flu, though. You shouldn't have driven all Sunday night to recheck that crime scene."

He suppressed a cough, "How else could I pin down the last clue in time to keep from messing up our holiday?"

"Yeah, well, I'm still waiting for the common sense gene to kick in. You know, the one that tells you to rest when you're sick?" she groused. _Who but Jane would get the flu in the summer anyhow?_ Dropping it, "Now carry the pies," she said, handing him the pie safe as she grabbed the small shoulder purse needed for the essential elements of her identity – badge and gun – as well as cell, wallet, and keys.

They put the pies in the back and got into the Citroen. Lisbon gave him a warning glare about speed as Jane pulled out of the parking lot, then gratefully sipped the Starbucks coffee he had gotten on the way to her townhouse. She was looking forward to the day. Despite her being a cop, Pete and Sam gradually accepted her into the carny family fold because of her connection to Jane. _Whatever that connection is, exactly. _They were good company, the food was fantastic, and there was always the possibility of new stories about Jane's colorful carny days.

Jane stopped at a micro-brewery half-an-hour into their drive to Carson Springs. His contribution to the gathering was the craft beer now nestled in ice in the cooler next to the pies. It was going to be a good day. Glancing to his right, he smiled to see Lisbon fast asleep. She left work after midnight to finish the paperwork, then she had got up early this morning to bake. _Pot to kettle, pot to kettle. _

**Flashback**

Lisbon had fallen asleep thinking how different it was from a year ago, just after the Vegas nightmare and capturing Lorelei.

_ "Come on! What's taking so long?" _

_ "Relax. She'll be here."_

_ "Look, I‑I'm sorry, by the way."_

_ "For what? There's a long list of possibilities."_

_ "Yeah, well, this is more of a general purpose apology. Use it for your top issue."_

_ "Thanks."_

_ "Who's this?"_

_ "That's not her. There's been a mistake."_

_ "There's no mistake. Her paperwork's all in order. It's the only Lorelei Martins we got._"

_Jane didn't say two words on the drive back from the Sacramento County Jail. I'd never guess anything was wrong from his face or posture. His hands told a different story. He had a such a ferocious grip on the door handle his right hand was bloodless. I thought he'd break the plastic. And his left hand was balled up in a fist. That's damn near a meltdown for someone as controlled as Jane. And then he disappears as soon as we get back. What a relief the Citroen remained in the lot._

_ Was I pissed. First Jane vanishes for six months without a word, the bastard. Then the FBI interferes in the Vegas operation. Jane could have been killed. Wainwright actually was, God rest his soul. Next, the pleasure of being blind-sided by Lorelei Martins during interrogation. Took me forever to get past that, past her. And then the FBI – or maybe Homeland? – takes Lorelei, tipping Jane back into obsession._

_ I'm glad I did something that day. The CBI __owed__ the team an after-case dinner at a nice restaurant to decompress. My team performed its role perfectly. Even if I wanted to strangle Jane for Vegas and Lorelei, he spent six months of his life and risked death trying to get Red John. And then the FBI screws it up. My team, each of them, deserved to feel good about their work despite it hitting the fan in Vegas and Sacramento. Even though Red John got away, Lorelei Martins was an incredible catch. Jane deserved credit for that, not that he cared._

_ I was worried. I couldn't find Jane to tell him about the dinner. Not in the bullpen. Not in the attic. Not even the men's room. Fortunately, Cho found him asleep on a bench in the CBI gym, of all places. And at least Jane came. Jane burned off his frustration by jogging. Cho said the treadmill next to him showed 13 miles. Who knew? It makes sense. Cho let on he'd seen Jane down there before. I always worried about Jane not having a way to deal with the stress. I never thought the man got any exercise what with spending hours on the couch and generally refusing to do anything physical. _

_ I had work to do, starting with that dinner. Nothing good was gonna come of leaving Jane to brood. And it wasn't a moment too soon to start rebuilding the team, to squelch their irritation at Jane's solo Vegas con. It was a start, anyhow. They did relax and begin acting normally with each other. But taking pride in the operation despite not getting Red John? Not so much. Jane completely rejected the idea. Then when I pointed out that not all problems have solutions, he got up and left. It's been a year now and my point stands. Where is it written that every problem can be solved? Even with Jane's brilliance and obsession with the case, there just isn't enough information to ID Red John. God knows, he's tried. We all have. _

_That after-case dinner was nice. Too bad it wasn't enough to head off months of fallout. Not just Jane, but Rigs too. Sarah was furious he'd faked his death without telling her. At least Rigs is a great dad, devoted to Ben. And that opened the chance for Rigsby and Van Pelt to get together again. Mysterious ways._

_ And Jane? Irritated, distracted, obsessed for months. He barely wanted to work normal cases. He insisted on interviewing the SCJ transport drivers. He actually found the one who was blackmailed into diverting Lorelei to that supermax prison. And then he spends two weeks trying to figure a way to break __into__ the prison. Well, that ended. Red John killed her in prison, just like Jane said he would. The best lead we ever had. Gone. Damn it! _

_ What a difference a year makes. Back then Jane was angry, frustrated, obsessed. And now? Yeah, he wants a life, to move on. But can he?_

**Jane's Reflections**

Jane glanced at Lisbon, smiling at her relaxed, open face in sleep. _She scolds me for driving all night to that crime scene. Then she stays till midnight to finish the paperwork and gets up early to make pies. No wonder she needs some Z's._

_It's been a year since Vegas. _He shook his head at the memories._ God, never want to go through anything like that again. Six months in Vegas. Lonely, missing Lisbon. Missing the team. Drinking too much, bored out of my skull. Worried how easy it would be to slide down that slope, become the prick I used to be only worse. Then he finally contacts me. Bless Teresa, after all that she still supports me, mounts the operation. Got the team to buy in, too._

_ The FBI drones blow my cover, cost me Red John. And worse. We got Lorelei. I could have broken her. The best lead we ever had - gone thanks to the FBI. I tracked her to the supermax prison only for Red John to get her. And there just isn't enough to figure it out. I tried everything I could think of to get a new lead. I . . . resist Lisbon's argument: 'Not every problem can be solved.' Though so far she's more on the money than I am. I could get him. Will never give up hope of getting him. But I need more clues, new leads, something. Until then, there is literally nothing more for me to do. So now what? Can I really have a life anyhow? With Lisbon -Teresa. Maybe._

Jane reluctantly turned off the main road to follow the detour signs. It was wildfire season and a burning tree fell across the highway, melting the asphalt. All traffic was rerouted. After turning off the main road, he pulled into a convenience store for a couple of bottles of water and ibuprofen for his headache. He decided it was easy enough to ignore the mild chest pain from the remnants of the flu if the ibuprofen didn't do the trick.

Lisbon finally woke an hour later. She gratefully opened the bottled water and drank half, parched from the dry air.

"Jane–"

"Welcome back, Sleepyhead–"

"Sorry I fell asleep. How long was I out?"

"Don't be. You needed the rest after last night. About an hour." He stopped a moment to deal with convoluted detour signs. "We're taking a detour because the main road is blocked."

"So, how much longer do you think?"

"It's been a while since I was up this way. I'd guess 45 minutes or so. Hope Pete and Sam and Al haven't eaten all the food. Never heard whether Luke and James can make it."

"Their kids, right?"

"Yep. All grown of course and Luke has his own family."

"You look like something's on your mind."

He tilted his head, making light of it. "Nah, though Pete and Sam aren't getting any younger. I wonder how long they can keep doing the circuit. And what happens when they stop?"

"I don't suppose there's any kind of pension for carny folk, or something."

Mocking her, "Yeah, sure. You know how carnies are plugged into investments, retirement planning, and the like."

"So you're worried about them."

He grudgingly acknowledged she was right. "A little."

"And you'll do something about it if necessary, won't you?" She continued when he didn't answer. "Patrick Jane, you are officially a soft touch, and don't give me any crap about marks. I refuse to accept that value system."

"Yes, ma'am," he said obediently, giving her a crooked grin. He knew that, if necessary, he absolutely would "do" something to make sure Pete and Sam were all right financially. _I'm getting as bad as Teresa. Fixing things._ He smiled to himself at the happy thought that Lisbon's goodness might be rubbing off on him. At least a little.

**Flashback**

_Typical Jane!_ Teresa Lisbon thought to herself as she sat in the hospital waiting room.

_What kind of idiot goes to a crime scene, rummages through the cabinets, and then decides to use a discarded teaball from the kitchen sink? Patrick Jane that's who, but when I saw him on the floor having seizures I just….._

"Ma'am you really can't stand there. You should be waiting in the waiting room," someone in white pants and a white tunic told her.

That's when Lisbon looked around and realized she had walked her way right to the area where they were pumping Jane's stomach. Her heart squeezed in sympathy at the whimpers and occasional groans from behind the privacy curtain. Her stomach churned uneasily. She still didn't know if he'd even be okay.

"No you don't understand I'm his..." she stopped, reaching for her badge.

"I understand you're his girlfriend but you have to stay back there."

"Girlfriend. No, ma'am, I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon of the CBI. That's Patrick Jane my consultant."

"Oh that's lovely, I just love office romances. Since you're law enforcement, you go on in, dear. It might be nice if you're close by when he wakes up." The nurse had already shuffled her in before she had a chance to correct the nurse's assumptions. Lisbon looked at him, vulnerable and ill, and she knew. She didn't know exactly _when_ it had happened but she could no longer deny it: She was in love with Patrick Jane. And it didn't feel like a curable condition.

"Lisbon….."

**Jane and Lisbon**

The Citroen lurched sharply, banging Lisbon's shoulder painfully against the door. She yelped in pain as Jane swore softly under his breath, grip tight on the steering wheel just to stay on the road.

Eyes intent upon the road, Jane asked, "Lisbon, you okay?"

She heard Jane call, breaking her from her memory. "Did I drift off? Sorry." She rubbed her eyes, waking more fully.

"Don't be. We still have a little while longer. And it wasn't just last night. The past two weeks have worn everyone down." He relaxed and leaned back as they reached a smoother stretch of road.

She silently agreed, not just for herself but him as well. _He really does look under the weather. Maybe this visit will help. _Looking around, "Uh–where are we, Jane? I thought we were going to the layover at Carson Springs," she asked. They were traveling a steep, rutted, dirt road with nothing in sight but trees.

"We are. This is the back way out of the trailer park. Pete and Sam are staying at a little A‑frame cabin in the woods."

"Why? I'm surprised they even have a house when they have the Airstream."

He cleared his throat. "Pete's recovering from his knee replacement. I got the cabin over a year ago when Red John seemed to be everywhere. I wanted someplace they could be safe."

She looked quizzically at him. "So you bought them a house?"

He shook his head. "Just a cabin. I come up here sometimes, too. It's a favorite place from my carny days."

She hid a small smile with her hand. _Another piece to the Jane puzzle._ Then she remembered her dream from the hospital and the nurse's assumption. "I'm looking forward to seeing them, but . . . you're sure Sam and Pete want me there?" she asked again, her anxiety coming back.

"I wouldn't let you walk into something without fair warning."

Lisbon gave him one of those "Oh really?" looks and he couldn't help but grin.

Then she broached the concern that really gnawed at her. "What have you told them about us? Are we friends? Partners? Girlfriend-boyfriend?" _Am I__ Patrick Jane's girlfriend? I remember the first time I heard those two words together at the hospital. It was a lie but even then it felt right._

"I had to tell them something. Sam, for one, is way too sharp not to pick up on changes like that. Y'know, that's how she does such good astrology charts."

Her question still unanswered, "Jane," she asked, annoyed, "exactly what did you tell them?"

"I told them you and I are now a 'we,' an 'us.' They can't wait to see you. I know Sam will be thrilled to see you looking like something other than a cop. I told her you do put the gun away now and then," he smirked.

Lisbon knew he was trying to make a joke but then felt guilty thinking about the gun and badge tucked away in her purse. It was just force of habit. But, she was about to be surrounded by carny folk. Sure, she knew Pete and Sam but what about anyone else? Luke, James, and–was it–Al? Then again, Red John was still out there . . . somewhere. She set that aside, not wanting to spoil the outing thinking about a serial killer.

Remembering the new name, "You sound excited about seeing Al. Were you the same age?" she asked trying to change the subject.

"Not quite. I was five when Al was born. I didn't think Sam and Pete would have any more kids by then."

"What about the others - Luke and James? Were you close to them?"

"Nearer in age, but it wasn't the same. They were boys in every way. Playing football and basketball, getting dirty and just being boys Al was like me. We read books together, did little cons. Even though I was five years older, Al and I were partners in crime… Literally."

"So why hasn't Al been around any other times at Pete and Sam's?

"Away at medical school in the east. Back now for a cardiology residency."

"Wow. Wasn't expecting that. So Sam and Pete have one teacher and one doctor in the family."

"Yep. Al is really smart," Jane said and then focused on the road as it got rougher again."

Lisbon's eyebrows shot up. _That means something coming from Jane. Ambitious, too, to be a doctor._ Lisbon couldn't help the smile forming on her face when she thought about Jane with a "mini me" following him around. She was sure that Al thought he hung the moon. Sensing a deeper story, she asked, "What else? Sounds like you two were close."

"Al's a handful. Extrovert, quick, mischievous–"

Lisbon hid a smile. _Al's__ a handful?!_ "But he must have a serious side to get into medical school."

"Uh, he is actually–" Jane glanced at Lisbon then paused, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, you'll be surprised at Al. Never a dull moment. Anyhow, the interest in medicine comes from Sam. Sam's the carny midwife and all-around first stop for free medical care. No formal credentials, but somehow she knows a lot."

"Yeah, like someone else I know. Interesting family. I'm looking forward to this." Lisbon rarely got Jane to talk about his past this much. She liked him being so open. Surprisingly, she wasn't that nervous about announcing their evolving relationship anymore, about being his girlfriend.

Jane glanced at her. "What are you smiling about?"

"I was just trying to figure out what it looked like. –You with a little guy following you around. You didn't mind him tagging along all the time? Didn't that get awkward when you started noticing girls? You met Angela when you were teenagers. Must've been pretty hard with a younger boy underfoot."

Jane tried again, "Lisbon, I need to tell you Al-"

"-That's another thing," she interrupted. "Who will ever believe we're together when you're constantly calling me 'Lisbon'?"

"It's been over ten years. It's kind of hard to break that habit, Teresa. You call me 'Jane,'" he replied defensively, smirking.

She frowned. She hated that smirk, but when he said her name, Teresa with that z, it made her melt. _Is he biting his cheek? What?_

He paused, then continued, "No it was fine with Al around. Well until puberty. By then things were heating up with Angie and, well, Al developed a crush."

"What?" she gasped, completely confused. She choked on her water. But she didn't have a chance to clear it up because they were finally pulling into the driveway of the quaint A-frame cabin Jane had described. She could see the Airstream parked nearby and wondered how the hell they had gotten it up that dirt road.

"This is the house?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. Just a little place where they can relax. Usually it's while the carnival is on break. But now it's the perfect place for Pete till his knee heals. We built a ramp. Unlike the Airstream, no steps for him to navigate."

_'We_,' she thought and snorted in derision. Lisbon couldn't picture Jane with a hammer. _But, who knows? It's always something unexpected with Jane. For all I know, that's just one more thing he's good at, even if physical labor _is_ involved._

Both got out of the Citroen and went to the back to get the beer and pies.

Jane nodded his head toward a nearby ridge, "I'll show you a spot higher up later on. Pretty view."

Lisbon took one quick glance to check on the pies, just to make sure they survived the rough road okay. She had made Boston crème when she found out it was Pete's favorite. And blueberry for Jane. He had wheedled a promise to make it after whining about it all day yesterday. She was just about to compliment Jane on his sane, moderate driving during the trip when the cabin's screen door flew open.

"Patty you're here!"

A slender woman in her early 30's ran straight toward them. Café-au-lait skin, long flashing legs beautifully set off by shorts, loose sable ringlets tamed with a headband, beautiful features. Her smile was nearly as gorgeous as Jane's.

Lisbon was more than shocked. Jane broke out in one of those special smiles that she always thought was hers alone. Well up until this very moment. Then the woman threw herself into Jane's arms and he laughed in delight. Lisbon was stunned at Jane's easy, happy laugh as he spun the woman around like some-well, she didn't know what.

Jane grinned from ear to ear. Woman still in his arms, he turned to Lisbon and said, "Al, meet Teresa Lisbon. Teresa, meet Ally Turner."

Lisbon realized two things at that moment. Al was most definitely not Pete and Sam's son. And Jane was very fond of his gorgeous, childhood friend.

Lisbon stood stock still, lips slightly parted in surprise. She swallowed and closed her mouth, shaking off the moment. Jane released Ally and leaned against the car, looking downward and taking quick, shallow breaths. Ally stepped back a pace. She shook Lisbon's hand in greeting, noticing her discomfort.

"Teresa, pleased to meet you." Lisbon nodded in return.

Ally then did a double-take and really took in Jane's appearance. In a motion familiar to Lisbon from Jane, Ally ducked down a bit to look Jane fully in the face.

Eyebrows raised, "Patty? You okay?"

Wincing as he took a deep breath, he dismissed her concern, "Oh, yeah. Just got over the flu. C'mon. Let's go annoy Pete and Sam."

"Teresa, can I help?"

"No, I'm fine," she answered with a smile, picking up the pie safe.

Jane lifted the ice chest with the beer and followed the tantalizing smells to the smoker in the backyard. Ally trailed Jane, effusively chattering about her new digs in Sacramento and the cardiology residency she'd just started. Lisbon followed her, wondering just where this piece of the puzzle fit into the Jane story.

Catching sight of them, "Patrick!" Sam exclaimed, giving him a hug. "Pepper, I'm so glad you came too-" Sam hugged Lisbon as well. Sam was Jane's family in all but biology, and Lisbon happily returned the hug.

"–Yeah, Sam wondered all week," Pete said, nearly crushing Jane in a bear hug when it was his turn. He grabbed both of Lisbon's hands in a handshake - for which she was grateful, not sure she'd survive a full bore hug from Pete. _The man is huge!_ she noted, impressed anew every time they met.

"Pepper – Teresa, you're a sight for sore eyes. We need all the help we can get to keep him in line. 'Specially now that Al's here too. Trouble squared."

They seated themselves in the patio chairs scattered around. Pete busied himself tending the smoker then sat down himself. Jane noted that Pete's knee was nearly healed – stiff, but functional and much better than the last time Jane visited.

Ally set out glasses and a pitcher of pink lemonade to offset the dry, dry air. When Lisbon asked why Jane found that funny, he recounted how seven-year old Ally had dyed his hair with pink lemonade mix while he was sleeping, just before a Boy Wonder show. She was retaliating when he refused to take her to a movie as he had promised. Ally grinned and told him she brought it specifically in honor of that fond memory.

They talked about the weather, fire season, the carny circuit. Turned out Luke was celebrating the Fourth with other teachers from his school. James was traveling the circuit with another carnival. Eventually, Sam mentioned the hulking crimson elephant in the corner.

"I'm glad you came this year, too," Sam opened. "Did I miss it or has there really been nothing in the news about _him_ since last year?" Jane uncomfortably shifted in his seat. Lisbon's smile faded. Al leaned over and whispered in her mom's ear. Sam replied inaudibly.

After a moment, Jane answered, "No, you haven't missed anything. Everything's been quiet since he murdered his mistress a year ago."

"That's a good thing, right Patty?" Pete offered.

Jane grimaced and shook his head in a tight movement. "Yes and no. Yes, there haven't been any more murders. That we know of. No, in that I have no new clues to help me find him–help _us_ find him," he quickly amended at Lisbon's frown.

"So now what?"

"We wait till new evidence becomes available. However long that might be."

Sam said gravely, "Patrick, I know you want justice for Angie and Charlie–"

Jane uncrossed his legs and straightened, frowning.

She plowed on, "–just hear me out. I'm not sayin' give up, but how about getting on with your life as well? Wouldn't Angie want that for you?"

Lisbon watched silently, knowing not another person in the world could broach that without Jane leaving – or verbally gutting the questioner.

Jane shifted uncomfortably again, then surprisingly leaned back and deliberately relaxed. "Sam, you may have a point. Teresa and I are talking about living together." Relief and happiness flooded Sam's face.

"Jane!" Lisbon glared at him.

He shrugged, not bothering to hide a sly grin. "What? We've talked about it," he objected, ignoring her muttered, "Yeah, but I haven't agreed yet" and took her hand. He didn't let go when she tried to tug it loose. "Lisbon and I do agree we're a 'we' now." A full, happy smile broke over his face. Despite her exasperation, Lisbon was warmed by that smile, the very one that was special and usually hers alone.

Finally she got up, pulled her hand loose, and excused herself to go into the house in search of a washroom. She heard snatches of conversation, of Jane explaining their agreement to get on with life once a year had passed without any Red John activity. She huffed at her own weak euphemism. _'Activity.' Really, Lisbon? Murder. A year without any new Red John murders._

Finished, Lisbon walked toward the back door and encountered Ally mixing the salads in the kitchen.

"Teresa," she called. "Keep me company?"

"Sure. Can I help?"

"Nah. My mom had it all set up before noon. All I have to do is combine the ingredients and mix." Speculation gleamed in her eyes. "Is Patty out of line with what he said?"

Lisbon took a deep breath, deciding that trading a little information was well worthwhile. "Not exactly. Jane and I have _talked_ about it. But he always pushes the envelope no matter what the situation."

Ally smiled, "That's Patty all right. Uh, why do you call him 'Jane'?"

"Just a work thing. Everyone at the CBI goes by last names. Sometimes I call him 'Patrick,' but 'Jane' is a habit after ten years."

Suddenly serious, "_Ten years?! _I had no idea. –Hey, I was immersed in medical school and my internship back east. I haven't really been in the loop since Angie and Charlie were murdered. Fill me in?"

Lisbon busied herself with dragging a chair over and getting a soda from the fridge before answering. "Jane had a rough time after the murders. –That story isn't mine to tell. I met him about a year after, when he came to the CBI to find out about the Red John case. My team got the case from the Sacramento PD after Red John started murdering people all over California. She paused, then added, "Angela and Charlotte were his ninth and tenth victims."

"My god," Ally said softly.

Lisbon took a deep breath and continued. "Yeah. Red John's body count is over 30 now. And he has friends who no doubt account for many more."

"So how has Patty been involved with all this?"

"Jane's mentalist skills are incredibly useful for solving crimes. He was still pretty torn up so soon after their murders. For a bunch of reasons, he went with me while I investigated the case we were working on." Pride subtly radiated from her at the recollection. "He saw things that four experienced detectives didn't. And he wasn't even trying. He solved the case and got a confession. My boss hired him as a consultant and I agreed to have him work with my team."

"So Patty's been solving crimes?"

Lisbon nodded. "Homicides."

"Huh. He's really, really smart, so that's no surprise. But I'd never think murders were a good fit."

"They aren't. At least the gore and violence aren't. But he likes the mysteries and outsmarting the bad guys. He denies it but he also likes bringing them to justice."

"And Red John?"

"He's been hunting Red John all ten years."

Ally frowned. "I had no idea his life was - was still dominated by their murders. Hell, by murder in general. And it must be killing him that Red John is still out there." She turned and looked at Lisbon. She brought the same unblinking, fathomless gaze to Lisbon's face as Jane so often did. After a minute, she nodded. "I see why you're a couple. Thank you."

Lisbon left it hang there for a moment. Then she decided she had nothing to lose by asking. "How about you, Ally? What's the story between you and Ja– Patrick?"

Ally unexpectedly grinned. "Both more and less than you imagine. Patty and I were best childhood friends. We hung around. I idolized him. He was always around our trailer after his mom died when he was ten. Mom and Dad didn't mind, they loved him, too. We did everything together. Now, I love my brothers Jimmy and Luke, but Patty and I had a lot more in common."

Cautiously, "How did Angela fit into the picture?"

Cheerfully, "Oh I hated her! Patty was 16 and I was 11 when Angie's family started traveling with our carnival. Patty and Angie glommed onto each other instantly. I had such a crush, was so jealous! But Patty never saw me as anything other than his kid sister." She thought a moment, then continued with a wide smile. "Ironically though, just when I figure he and I will never be anything else he ends up being my prom date." She smirked.

"How did _that_ happen?" Lisbon said with a smile. This was a story she really wanted to hear. She leaned closer on the counter.

"Well you've seen dad. The man is practically a bear. A real live bear, and my two brothers, well, they are definitely his bear cubs. My date's name was Michael Dekker. He was my assistant in the show."

"You were in the show? What did you do?" Lisbon asked trying to figure out more about this woman who obviously meant so much to Jane.

"Oh, I'm a fire eater - I eat fire. Well that's just one thing that I did. I would eat fire and throw knives and shoot arrows, and Mikey would be the guy that I threw everything at." She giggled, the memory transporting her back to her teenage years.

"Okay so how did Jane end up being your prom date?"

"Well my folks insisted we go to school. I was a tomboy but Michael could see through all that. He asked to be my date."

"That's normal enough. What happened?"

"Papa bear and his big bad cubs told Mikey if he took me he'd have to leave the show. They scared the crap out of him when they caught the two of us making out. They told him that if he took me they'd be watching. He broke up with me the very next day." She sighed. "Patty was furious when he found out. Angela too. She got him to show up right here on the doorstep of the Airstream. He was so handsome! And he was–" she leaned close and whispered, "–an _older guy!" _then leaned back, laughing at high school nonsense._ "_Everyone was so jealous when he showed up on my arm. That curly hair and those green crystal eyes. I was the talk of the school for weeks."

"I'm guessing you and Angela somehow became close friends by then?"

She shrugged. "By then Patty had cut loose from the carnival anyway because of Alex. I got over it. No choice. 'Sides, by the time Patty left the carnival I figured out I wanted to go to medical school. I had to work my butt off for good grades to get scholarships." She glanced at Lisbon. "Patty helped pay for medical school. I'll repay him once I'm in private practice."

"All that but you haven't talked for – what?"

"Probably 15 years. Angie and I worked it out. I couldn't resist once Charlotte came along."

"Well, congratulations on becoming a doctor, a cardiologist. That's quite an accomplishment."

Ally glanced out the window at her folks and Jane, a shadow briefly crossing her face. She shrugged away the disturbing intuition. Then, "Thanks. I'm incredibly lucky it's all worked out. I hope to see more of Patty, now that I'm back in California. I can't wait to introduce him to my boyfriend. Either they'll hit it off or kill each other. Not sure which."

Lisbon smiled, "From the looks of it, Jane feels the same way. I'm glad you're here."

Ally handed her a bowl of salad and took the other bowl from the refrigerator. "C'mon. Looks like Dad's got the meat done."

As expected, the food was fantastic. Afterward, they all sat around, busy digesting too much barbeque and too much pie. The setting sun poked red fingers of light through leafy treetops. They could hear fireworks down by the trailer park. Pete frowned at the thought of fireworks in such dry conditions. Usually he put a stop to any dangerous stunts pulled by carny kids, but he couldn't do anything while at the cabin. Everyone helped clean up. Having spent much of the day standing over the smoker, Pete mostly sat with his bum leg propped up on another chair.

Frowning at Jane's half-eaten slice of blueberry pie, Lisbon asked, "Pie no good?"

"Pie's great," he countered. "I'm not very hungry. Tired."

She kissed his cheek. "Well, you've got Thursday, Friday and the weekend. Take time to rest up, huh?"

He suddenly grinned, looking up at her. "Hey. I still want to show you the view from the overlook, if you're about done."

Lisbon carried the last leftovers to the kitchen, washed her hands, and went out to join Jane.

"It's about a half mile up that ridge," he said, pointing to the trail. "It's mostly an easy stroll. Doesn't get steep till the last five-hundred feet. C'mon." He frowned at the faint smell of smoke. "Hope Pete's wrong about those fireworks and fire."

They leisurely walked to the path, hands entwined. Ten minutes into their stroll, Lisbon looked back, realizing Jane had fallen behind.

"Coming?"

"Yeah," he answered, leaning against a tree. "Had a rock in my shoe." She paused till he caught up.

Five minutes later the path got steeper. Lisbon huffed as she walked up the trail. She could see the ridge-top several hundred feet ahead.

"Lisbon!"

She turned. Jane leaned against a tree breathing heavily. She hurried back.

"Jane? You okay?"

Pale and sweating, his face distorted by pain, "No. I – I can't breath. Hurts to breathe."


	2. Chapter 2 - The Crisis

**Uncertainty**

**Chapter 2: The Crisis**

"Sit down." Lisbon grabbed Jane's arm and helped him manage a controlled slide down the tree trunk until he was sitting. He continued to breathe heavily, wasn't catching his breath.

Scared, "Jane, do you have your cell?" she asked, realizing hers was in her purse.

He shook his head. After a few seconds he found enough breath to talk, "No signal up here." His forehead was hot, face pale, breathing labored. His pulse was fast, as though he'd been running.

"Jane, we need to get back to the cabin. Can you stand? Walk?"

"I'll try." By now, his breathing and pulse had eased slightly. Lisbon's presence helped keep his panic at bay.

With her help he got up, unsteady and trembling. Downhill was less taxing. Lisbon yelled for help once she could see the cabin. They made it to within a hundred feet when Jane collapsed, unable to continue. It was all he could do to breathe. Ally and Sam ran up within seconds. Pete followed more slowly. Ally looked him over, took his pulse.

"What's wrong?"

Tersely, "Could be several things. Patty, relax. Just try to breathe."

By then Pete made it to them. Jane was unable to stand, much less walk. After a brief word with Ally, Pete lifted Jane to his shoulder with the help of the three women. Pete staggered to the cabin and laid Jane on the couch.

"Mom, get me that stethoscope and any other medical equipment you have. Quick!" Jane's labored breathing continued, shallow and too fast. Though conscious, his whole attention focused on breathing. Feeling he was slowly suffocating, his terror only made it worse.

Lisbon couldn't stand the agony of watching helplessly. She fished the Citroen keys from his pocket. She'd drive down toward the trailer park till she could get a cell phone signal. Calling for help was the best thing she could do for him. She was gone by the time Sam returned from the Airstream, equipment in hand.

"Patty, take deep breaths." Sam and Pete helped Jane sit up, which also eased his breathing. Ally threaded the stethoscope up under the bottom hem of his shirt to listen.

Jane cried out in pain trying to take deep breaths.

"I think it's pneumonia. He needs a hospital. Soon."

Lisbon got only half way down the road. Wildfire blocked the road. Still no signal. She managed to turn around without pitching into the ravine and drove back. The smell of smoke was unmistakable and undeniable when she opened the door to come back in.

"Fire. No way around it. We're stuck."

"How close?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"Half way down. I couldn't get across. I couldn't get any kind of coverage anywhere. How is he?" Everyone fell silent. Lisbon hadn't heard Ally's diagnosis or conclusion that Jane needed a hospital sooner rather than later. They weren't sure how she'd take it.

"Lisbon." Jane called breathlessly before Ally could answer, She instantly knelt by his side. She brushed his hair from his forehead, worried by how hot he felt, how much he was sweating, how labored his breathing. She resolutely shoved aside memories of convulsions after he drank belladonna tea. She wanted to make him better. He had to get better.

"How're you feeling, Sweetheart?" she asked taking his hand. Jane managed a faint smile at that. He knew if someone was being murdered Teresa Lisbon could take on anything, but right here right now she was as terrified as he was. She hated being around anyone who was sick. But when it happened to one of hers, the mother hen kicked in. She always took the best care of him. He hated being sick.

**Flashback, Long Ago**

"I can't believe you did that, Patty! What were you thinking?" she asked as she pulled the covers up around his neck.

"They didn't see her. They were fooling around. She fell in, she's so little and she's not good at swimming yet." He sneezed.

"That's my little man. You're a hero around here. Pete and everyone else keeps going on about how my little Patty saved the day. I'm going to take you someplace special tomorrow. When Daddy finds out he'll come too," she beamed.

"Dad says I can join the show pretty soon. He's been teaching me all kinds of tricks. He says he's proud of me and calls me his boy wonder." His face shown with excitement and delight.

"Yes you are. Now you're going to stay in bed so I can take care of you." She ran her hand through his curls. A warm, low hum soothed him, made him forget how cold he was. She didn't realize she was doing it. It always made him feel special. Loved. She knew how to take care of him and he fell asleep feeling calm and safe.

**Flashback, Two Weeks Ago**

Jane squeezed his eyes shut when the light came on in his room. He didn't know who had the balls to be disturbing him on his deathbed, but if he could find the strength he'd make sure they died with him.

"Jane, I've been calling you all day. We have a case so get yourself into one of those suits and let's get going."

"I'm taking a sick day. I'm not feeling well, Lisbon." He put on his best puppy dog look hoping to get the message across.

"Oh no you don't! I fell for that a few days ago. When we got to the crime scene you were already out back rummaging through their trash!" she said heatedly, losing her temper, afraid of being played again.

"I'm not joking Lisbon. I'm really sick–" He interrupted himself with deep coughing. "In fact, with our new relationship and you being our leader, it's your duty to stay here and nurse me back to health. I think...I think I'm dying." He moaned into his pillow, shamelessly working the sympathy angle.

He looked through the crack he had left in the covers to see if his pleading was working. He looked and she was cracking. He could see it, she believed him. He hid his smile in the pillow. She had no idea just how horrible he was when he was sick.

"Jane - Patrick, I'm sure you're not _that_ sick." She felt his forehead to prove her point, then was taken aback. He was quite hot. _Damn!_ She rubbed her face in frustration. "Okay, I'm sorry, you are sick. But I still _have_ to get back to the case. You know staying home to take care of my boyfriend won't fly at work. I swore till blue in the face that becoming an 'us' wouldn't get in the way." She took a deep breath and sighed. "You, Sweetheart, stay in bed and rest. I'll bring soup home later." She set out water, aspirin, and cough medicine on his bedside table.

She looked at him and a part of her didn't want to leave. He looked absolutely miserable lying there. Jane was older than she was but at times he looked like a little boy. _Not to mention __acting__ like a child! _ She reached down and stroked his head. _Shades of taking care of my brothers_, she thought, annoyed at being torn between concern for Jane and duty at work.

Jane was miserable. His skin hurt, he ached everywhere, chills alternated with waves of overwhelming heat. His stomach was staging a revolution – he knew because even the thought of food was revolting. He wasn't sure she knew how awful he felt, but he wished she'd crawl into bed and keep him company. He knew she wouldn't. Lisbon didn't _do_ sympathy at the expense of duty. She wasn't ashamed of their relationship but she didn't want anyone thinking that taking him as a lover would change her determination as an officer of the law.

"Get some rest, Patrick. I'll be back soon." She affectionately ran her hand through his curls again. His scalp hurt at that, but he didn't care. He felt so much love with her slightest touch. Love and comfort.

**Present**

"How is he?" Lisbon asked again. Jane was panting, still short of breath, and his panic was making it worse. _He needs to calm down_. "Jane, I'm here." She took his hand. "You need to calm down. Lucky you – your favorite childhood friend is a doctor." She looked over to Ally. "Ally?" still waiting for an answer. Lisbon kept her voice calm, but fear was visible on her face.

Ally shook her head then turned to her parents. "Mom, you still keep an oxygen tank in the Airstream storage? Could you go get it? We need it if we're gonna be stuck here for awhile. Dad, help me slide him up on these pillows. He shouldn't be lying flat right now."

Lisbon moved out of the way as they helped Jane into a more upright position. She didn't comment but she didn't like the way his eyes drifted without focusing on anything. Her presence and the new position seemed to help, though. His alarm subsided, leaving him with the simple struggle to get enough air.

"Oxygen tank?" Lisbon asked trying to focus on hard facts rather than her fears about Jane. Ally still hadn't told her anything, but difficulty breathing without a hospital in reach sounded like a lethal combination. She resisted putting her fears in plain words, even to herself. _How the hell did it get so bad so fast? Jane, hang in there._

"Mom is the midwife around these parts. I keep her stocked up on things she might need. It's a pretty big tank and could last well over two days. But we'll be on our own if we can't get past the fire by then." Ally explained.

Lisbon opened her mouth, more frustrated than ever at the lack of explanation. Ally frowned at her and motioned her to the kitchen. Lisbon finally realized it wasn't going to help if Jane got even more agitated. She abruptly went into the kitchen, followed by Ally who closed the door. Lisbon furiously whispered, "What's going on Ally? I'm really scared!"

Ally replied with a professional calm and detachment she certainly didn't feel. "Patty's symptoms are consistent with several conditions. I can't be sure but it's very likely pneumonia, stage II or III."

Lisbon stared. She finally managed, "I was afraid he was having a heart attack."

Ally shook her head. "I don't think so. He's pretty young for that and looks fit, in good shape. – I asked Mom. Early onset cardio problems don't seem to run in either side of his family. The flu can be a precursor to pneumonia, especially if he's stressed–" Lisbon rolled her eyes at that. "–or exhausted."

"Both," Lisbon squeezed out, throat suddenly tight. "How serious is-um, what now?"

"The immediate problem is simply helping him get enough oxygen. The oxygen tank is a godsend. Without tests, I don't know if it's bacterial or viral pneumonia. He did have the flu recently, right?" Lisbon nodded. "Then most likely it's viral and even antibiotics wouldn't help. Hospital treatment is mainly supportive, helping his body cope till his immune system deals with the infection."

"Since he isn't in a hospital?"

Grim. "I won't sugar-coat it. The infection compromises lung function and that will worsen over time. If the oxygen doesn't help enough, prolonged low blood oxygen starts a cascade of bad effects. Serious cases of pneumonia force the heart to work harder and can trigger a heart attack. Prolonged and declining oxygen levels can cause failure in other organs as well. With someone like Patty who's younger and basically healthy, complete recovery is usually a given. But if we run out of oxygen, not to mention lack of medicines and supportive care, there are serious risks. –You should expect him to be disoriented, incoherent. In itself, that's no danger, just a side effect of hypoxia." Ally waited for Lisbon's reaction, wondering if Patty's friend would be a help or just another problem in the emergency. Even though Ally was younger than Lisbon, the heavy responsibility of treating seriously ill patients forced maturity beyond her years.

Lisbon took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "What can I do to help?"

Ally nodded to herself, mentally congratulating Patty on his choice of partner, of girlfriend. "Help him stay calm. The last thing he needs is to put a greater strain on his pulmonary and cardiovascular systems. And we need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible."

"Thank you."

Lisbon went back to the living room. She took Jane's hand and squeezed it gently, murmuring words of encouragement. She frowned that his hand was slack in hers.

Ally had rejoined them. "Patty, talk to me. How do you feel?" she asked, taking his vitals again. She frowned at his sluggish reactions, slow response.

"Jane?" Lisbon prompted.

"More time. I thought more...I can't…it hurts….I can't breathe," he moaned, breathing fast and shallow.

"I know Patty and I'm going to fix that," Ally told him just as Pete brought in the tank. She fitted the mask on his face, elastic band around his head to hold it in place. She cracked the valve on the tank. "Patty, I need you to take some deep breaths for me."

"Can't..." he mumbled around the mask. "I can't, it's just too hard. I'm hot. Are you hot Lisbon?" he asked, gripping her hand weakly.

"Listen to Ally, Patrick. I know it hurts, but breathe as deeply as you can, okay?" She looked at him sternly, willing him to cooperate.

"Lisbon…I…I need to tell you something. I-" His eyes rolled back and his head fell limply to the side.

"Patrick! Patrick! Is he-did he just-" she babbled in panic, desperately looking to Ally for answers.

"Just passed out," Ally reassured her. In fact, that was a favorable development. Being unconscious short-circuited the fear and emotions that were adding to his problems. His breathing and pulse slowed a bit, easing the strain on his body.

That was a preview of the rest of the night. The little A-frame cabin had electricity and water, courtesy of a solar power system. The energy stored in the batteries was enough to run the refrigerator, lights, and pump for well water. The area got neither hot nor cold enough to bother with air conditioning or with a heating system other than the fireplace.

Pete surveyed the area around the cabin and tried to get a sense of the direction of the wildfire. He felt the cabin was fairly safe from fire as it was located in a depression surrounded by rocky ridges. There wasn't much to fuel a fire on the ridges. It was still the growing season and the trees and vegetation were green and wet. Trees near the cabin were unlikely to ignite from embers or sparks alone and the roof shingles were fire-resistant. The biggest problem was being trapped until it burned itself out along the road. He repositioned the vehicles as far away from any trees as possible, just in case. There was simply nothing they could do but wait it out.

Sam prepared dinner from the leftovers. The four ate quietly. No one was interested in talking much with Jane so sick. All Ally recommended for Jane was water when he was lucid enough to drink without choking. On one of those occasions, Jane convinced her to allow tea as well. They decided it was better leaving Jane on the couch than adding stress by moving him. Pete and Sam retired to the bedroom, leaving the loft sleeping quarters for Lisbon and Ally. Ally had a professional responsibility to stay with her patient while Lisbon stayed nearby out of concern and love. She would gladly give him whatever comfort her presence afforded, and was frustrated she couldn't do more.

The minutes of the night dragged by. Pete periodically got up to check on the wildfire.

Ally got up hourly to take and record Jane's vital signs. Lisbon sat in a chair nearby, comforting him whenever he briefly woke. As best as Ally could tell without access to diagnostic tests and equipment, Jane was neither losing ground nor recovering. It was a holding action till they could get him to a hospital. The room was dim. A single low-watt lamp provided just enough light to keep from bumping into the furniture.

Lisbon and Ally sat in companionable silence. Despite the very real theat to Jane's health, to his life, calm settled over them as nothing changed very quickly.

"Ally," Lisbon began quietly, bored with the silence and weary of the anxious thoughts inside her head, "how did it get so bad so fast? I never imagined he was so sick."

"Teresa, I'm a doctor and it wasn't obvious. I thought something was wrong when he was winded after he swung me around. When you went on that walk, it was the last straw. The steep part of the trail demanded more than his body could handle with his compromised lung function. So, here we are. . . .Wish I hadn't let him make light of it when you arrived. We could have made it back down to a hospital."

"Yeah, that's Jane. He whines about little things, but almost never lets on if something is seriously wrong."

"First rule of a con man: Never reveal weakness."

Lisbon could hear the smile in Ally's voice and smiled in return. "Seriously. He had the flu two weeks ago–"

"Are you certain it was the flu? Did he see a doctor?"

Lisbon snorted softly. "Jane sees a doctor about as often as the Second Coming. He practically has to be on his–" She broke off and swallowed. The cliche was suddenly all too real a possibility. She took a deep breath and continued. "No, Patrick didn't see a doctor. Muscle aches, chills and fever, sensitive skin, coughing up phlegm. But no cold symptoms such as a runny nose or sneezing. Oh, and he was exhausted, too. I was a little surprised he got the flu in the summer."

"Classic flu symptoms. Summertime flu isn't unknown."

"But how does that lead to pneumonia?"

"Someone sick with influenza aspirates bacteria or viruses after coughing. It can become a lung infection – pneumonia – if the patient's susceptible."

"What makes someone susceptible?"

"Advanced age. Chronic diseases such as asthma or COPD. Anything that suppresses the immune system - alcoholism, certain cancer drugs, stress, exhaustion. The list goes on."

"Oh."

"Teresa, you rolled your eyes when I mentioned stress and exhaustion. What's the story?"

Lisbon sighed, then relented to giving her the long version. They certainly had the time. "I mentioned Jane's been hunting Red John ever since his family was murdered – or at least since he came to the CBI. Red John is unlike any other case, even other serial killers. He's very smart, leaves no useful evidence. He routinely kills anyone who could give him away. And he's made Jane his personal target, his toy in a game of cat and mouse. Jane's life has been a living hell for ten years." She glanced at Jane, but he was asleep or unconscious. "Stress and exhaustion are a good description of his daily life. You can throw in insomnia, guilt, and dangerous run-ins with a serial killer." To her surprise, Lisbon found it a relief to talk about it to someone close to Patty who she wasn't responsible for keeping alive, like her team.

"Why guilt?"

"He was working with SacPD on the case. He mentioned it on air during a psychic show. Red John took offense to his comments and killed Angela and Charlotte that night. Jane discovered them when he got home. He feels they'd still be alive if he hadn't opened his mouth."

"That's–" she lowered her voice as Jane stirred, "crazy. Poor Patty."

"You know it and I know it. I've been trying to convince him for ten years now. Worse, Red John's obsession with Jane makes him afraid to get close to anyone because it puts them in danger."

"Really? I mean that's a stretch–"

"No," she said coldly. "It isn't. The case was given to another team when my boss felt we were getting too emotionally involved. One of Red John's followers killed all four members of that team so Jane could get the case back. You cannot over-estimate how sick and twisted this psychopath is."

"But then, aren't you a target, too?"

Lisbon's smile was cold. "I was a target anyhow because it's my case."

"So that's what his life's been like?"

Lisbon nodded. "It's been worse this year. Jane was undercover in Vegas hoping to lure Red John out. The FBI messed up the operation. Red John escaped again, but we got his mistress. The FBI illegally diverted her to a Federal maximum security prison where she was killed. Six months of Jane's life, down the drain."

Ally shook her head. "I don't understand. Why wouldn't the FBI be working with you, coordinating?"

"It's complicated. But that was just the start." She bit her lip in the darkness. "Jane's been really upset, obsessed, himself. He spent three months re-investigating every Red John murder, going back to the crime scenes, interviewing survivors again, poring over the case files."

"And?"

"Ally, do you think every problem can be solved?"

Startled, "Umm, not necessarily. Not unless you have enough information."

"So why doesn't Jane understand that?"

"Because he'd feel he was giving up?"

"Yeah."

"Teresa, pardon the personal question, but how come Patty's been able to move forward with you, consider living together?"

She brushed her hair back, perplexed. "I think he finally wants a future–"

Ally's breath caught at the implication that he hadn't, at least for awhile.

"–And he collided with reality, with the possibility there might never be enough information to ID Red John. And maybe because of what Timothy Carter said."

"You've lost me."

"Jane's the smartest person in the CBI and he knows every bit of evidence that exists. He has the goddamn Red John files _memorized_ for heaven's sake. Until Red John makes a mistake, there just isn't enough information to ID him. There isn't!"

"Who's Timothy Carter?"

"The man Jane killed thinking he was Red John."

Ally gasped.

"It was Jane's brilliant plan to trap Red John. It could have worked except for the FBI mole. Timothy Carter was in the shopping mall. He claimed to be Red John and knew details of their deaths that only the killer would know. Jane shot him point blank."

"My god, I heard something about that when I was back east. I had no idea it was Patty. He killed an innocent man by mistake?" she asked in horror.

Lisbon swallowed with difficulty, overwhelmed by the bad memories. "Timothy Carter wasn't Red John, but had to be a follower to know those details. Jane and I rescued a teenager that Carter and his wife had chained in their basement. That girl wouldn't have left the basement alive. Carter was almost certainly a serial killer in his own right by the looks of that set-up. –Anyhow, Carter was a proxy for Red John, there at Red John's direction. If what Carter said is believable, Red John wants to retire."

Ally gagged on her coffee at that. "This is turning my stomach, Teresa. I see a lot as a doctor, but I can't even begin to imagine this."

"Jane investigated every damn Red John murder again, just about collapsing from the strain and work. I backed him into a corner. We agreed that if there were no more Red John murders for a year, we would assume Carter told the truth. That Red John wanted to 'retire.' Vanish. Stop. If Red John really did retire, or if Patrick and I are going to be targets anyway, why not try to have a life? Jane finally, finally agreed we would move forward. That year was up last month."

Ally didn't say anything for awhile. Tentatively, "So that's why you're a couple, now?"

"Yeah."

Softly, "You're brave, Teresa. I'm glad Patty has someone who cares – who cares that much."

Uncomfortable, Lisbon shrugged, "Yeah, well, even though he's a pain in the ass, he grows on you. Like I said, it was my case before Jane even showed up."

Ignoring Lisbon's snarky dig, "I can see he loves you, too. He would never have brought you to the carnival if–"

Jane's coughing interrupted them. Both quickly rose and went to his side. Ally took his vital signs since it was about time again and they both helped pull him higher on the pillows to ease his breathing. He didn't really wake and immediately lapsed back into sleep. They sat back down. Dawn was only a couple of hours away.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"I can't promise that, Teresa. He's holding his own, but really needs to be in a hospital."


	3. Chapter 3 - Cabin Fever

**Chapter 3: Cabin Fever**

**Awake**

"Lisbon!" Jane awoke with a start. He was relieved he could actually breathe, even if those breaths were fast and shallow._ Must be the nasty, last act of the flu. Never knew it could be so bad. _He looked around the dark room, realizing he was alone. He guessed they all decided to get some rest. When he got up and stretched he felt noticeably better, better than he had in quite a while. His stomach rumbled from hunger and the pie he had so casually abandoned called to him. Even before he found Lisbon, he was going to give that pie the attention it deserved.

He entered the dark kitchen. _Did they lose power?_ He frowned, puzzled. He had taken care to equip the cabin with solar power so they wouldn't have to worry about blackouts. Even if he had paid the arm and leg it cost to lay power lines up to the cabin, the area was regularly plagued with outages because of storms. _And – wait! - wasn't there a fire?_ He quickly moved to the window and looked out. The black night sky was pierced by stars, immeasurably remote. Their faint light was barely enough to make out the clearing around the cabin. There was no sign of fire.

He groped his way to the wall switch, and was relieved as light instantly flared when he flicked the switch. He looked back at the fridge and noticed a note on the door. He smiled, speculating that Ally or Lisbon wrote it when they left him sleeping on the couch. His girls, his favorite women. _Knew they'd become friends fast_. He snorted softly. _Or maybe that's fast friends._

Jane stepped closer to read the note. Fear lanced through him before he could read the words: A red smiley face served as the signature.

_'Mr. Jane,_

_'Surprise! Did you really think I had finished with you? Did you imagine I would let you get away with what you've done? You dared play with my toys. Lorelei was important to me and you defiled her. She fell for your parlor tricks. A part of her wanted you over me and I couldn't have that now, could I? So I sent her to meet your wife and daughter! Then I waited, waited for you to provide new toys for me and, my oh my, you didn't disappoint . . .'_

He didn't finish the note. It dropped from nerveless fingers as he ran to find his friends, _his family_, to see what the monster had done to them. He had wanted another Red John lead, but not this way, never this way. He blundered through the cabin, crashing into furniture as he fumbled to turn on lights as he went.

He found Pete and Sam, slipping in their pooled blood. He instantly knew what happened. Pete tried to use his body to protect Sam. Pete was big, big enough so he should have been able to overpower the killer. But evil won, perhaps because of Pete's bad knee. Their throats were slit in classic Red John style. Jane forced down bile at the sight, turned and ran. He was desperate to find Lisbon.

"Lisbon!" Jane screamed as he tore up the steps to the loft, even more breathless and staggering. _She's a cop! She can take care of herself, _he prayed desperately. He held tight to a sliver of hope._ There's no way he'd get her. He __couldn't__ get her. She always said she could protect herself from Red John._

She needed to be right. He _needed_ her to prove his fears wrong._ Lisbon could take care of herself. She would protect Ally. Ally could eat fire and shoot a gun better than anyone. They have to be okay._

He got to the loft. Things were not okay, would never be okay again. Both were there. Lisbon had protected Ally and neither went down without a fight. Lisbon had Ally stand behind her, and that's where she still was. Blood everywhere. Throats cut. Face, skin, hands ice cold. Two more people he failed to save. Two more woman he had loved with all of his heart. He failed . Again. He wouldn't come back from this. Even if he could, there was no point. "Lisbon," he sobbed, broken.

**Alarm**

"Lisbon!" Jane screamed, arms flailing, almost dislodging the breathing mask. Ally and Lisbon were up and at the couch instantly. Lisbon smoothed his hair and whispered comforting words – anything to soothe him, quiet him. Ally took his temperature, grateful she had the foresight to give her mom a tympanic thermometer. Taking his temperature by ear was vastly more convenient than the alternatives for an unconscious or delirious patient.

"What's wrong?" Lisbon looked up at Ally in concern.

"He's delirious. The infection is causing his temperature to spike." She turned her head and called, "Mom we need your help. We might have to try a cool bath soon."

"An ice bath?" asked Sam, turning on lights as she hurried out of the bedroom.

"Not ice - tepid. His temperature's 104. Higher and it could cause vomiting, dehydration. Possibly convulsions. I really don't want vomiting with his compromised breathing and intermittent consciousness."

That penetrated Lisbon's exhausted fog. "More problems, Ally? We have to get help." Lisbon abruptly stood and grabbed the Citroen's keys on her way to the door. "Maybe I can get down to the city this time."

Sam caught her arm. "No, Pepper, don't go out there. Pete says the fire's closer. Firefighters are trying to get it under control. Ally and I are hoping they'll succeed so we can get Patrick help. As soon as daybreak comes let's see what we can do."

Lisbon glanced over to Ally and Jane. In a low voice, "Sam level with me. Ally seems to think I need to be protected from the bad news. I'm not some damsel in distress. I don't know what Ally's thinking and that's making it worse. Sam, please just tell me. How serious is this pneumonia? What's happening with Jane?"

"She thought he was holding his own. But his fever is getting so high he's becoming disoriented and unresponsive."

"He was calling my name and trying to get up. That's not unresponsive. Spit it out, Sam. What if we can't get this fever down and can't get him to a hospital? Are you telling me Jane could die?" Lisbon swallowed with difficulty and turned away. Softly, to herself, "I just got him, he's finally decided to live. And I still could lose him? Oh, God." She took a deep breath, determined not to break down in front of Sam ... or Ally.

"Pepper, no one is talking like that now. We're gonna focus on what we can do, not on what might happen. Breathing's the main problem. Ally wants to get his temperature down to head off complications like vomiting. Come help me get this cool bath ready. When it's daylight, we'll see what we can do to get him to a hospital. One thing I know is that Patrick Jane is a survivor. You hang on to that." Sam tugged on her arm, leading her toward the back of the cabin away from Ally and a restless Patrick Jane.

Patrick Jane had no idea he was breaking Ally Turner's heart. She vowed to see him through this to the other side, to health. Treating patients without a personal connection was infinitely easier, but neither she nor Patty had that luxury. He _needed_ her. He needed her as a doctor as well as friend, no matter how terrifying it was without the tools necessary for her to do her job. He needed her and this was not going to be like the last time.

**Flashback**

Ally came when she got the news. She came even though her mom and dad told her she didn't want to do this to herself. She had to because Patty was her brother (she didn't _care_ about the biology). Besides, he had been paying for college and med school and she could handle this. It would be like her psych rotation.

It was weird entering this place on the other side, as a visitor. She willingly submitted to being searched more than once. After all, they were responsible for making sure she didn't bring anything in he could use to harm himself. Or her. A pen. A belt. A knife, of course, but also a fork. Scissors. Even a necklace. She assured them Patrick would never hurt her. He never could do that. He saved her life once, after all.

"Dear, is this your first time visiting?" a compassionate nurse named Agnes asked.

"Yes. I was away at school when he was admitted. I just found out or I'd have come sooner. Does he get a lot of visitors?" she asked, hoping.

"I think your mother comes by and your father on occasion, as well. They committed him." Ally's attention drifted from the conversation. Her mom told her that Patty had listed them as alternates for medical power of attorney. They only knew because the attorney mailed them copies as a standard service to his high end clients. If Angela couldn't do it for some reason - Ally thought in horror and sorrow, _Yeah, for some reason _- Sam and Pete could make medical decisions on Patty's behalf. But only if he were incapacitated. Now keenly aware of medical emergencies from medical school, Ally had tried to get her mom and dad to get those documents prepared for themselves, but, true to the carny life, her pleas fell on deaf ears.

Returning to the conversation, "–only two personal visitors. And then there are the fans. I never realized how famous he was until one week I had to get a poor girl off the gate. Nearly impaled herself trying to see him. It's horrible what happened to his family. Now don't be alarmed by his demeanor."

"What?" she asked, confused.

Before she had time to ask another question the door closed and locked behind her. She was face to face with her best friend Patty. The horrifying thing was Patty wasn't _there_. His body was there, but _he_ was away...somewhere. The room contained only a mattress, a table, and a chair. The walls were white like they were in all hospitals. Unlike any other hospital room she had ever seen (and she had seen a lot in training to be a doctor), one wall was decorated with a red smiley face. Ally knew little about the monster who had killed Patty's family - who had viciously murdered Angie and Charlie - but she knew that was his calling card.

Despite scrubbing and a lingering odor of bleach, a ghost of the smiley face remained. It had been drawn in blood and would persist till the room was repainted. The blood was Patty's, she'd been told.

She looked into the corner of the room. On the floor looking at nothing sat one Patty Jane. She walked over, knelt and hugged him.

"Oh Patty," she sighed caressing his cheek. She sighed again and sat down next to him.

Patrick Jane had been sitting there trying to remember where he was exactly. He wanted to be with his family, had worked hard to go to them. He had begged for death many times to join them and it was yet to come. A touch, a familiar scent summoned him back to the present he desperately wanted to forget. Finally it occurred to him to look and he was shocked to see Ally Turner. She couldn't be here. She _shouldn't_ be here. Red John didn't know about her or her mom. He needed to keep them safe.

"No!" He shrieked in terror.

"Patty, I'm sorry I stayed away so long." Tears streaked down her face unnoticed as she tried to embrace him, stop him from edging away and folding into a ball. "I just found out. I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"Stay back. Stay back or you'll be dead too." he told her, scrambling to get as far from her as possible.

The nurse opened the door and stepped in. "Ma'am, it's best if you come with us now. Please."

Looking up, "I don't need to be coached. I'm in med school for god's sake. I did my psych rotation. Besides this man is practically my brother, I can handle it."

"Patty, it's me, Al," she said, gently stroking his arm.

"You can't be here. I'll kill you too, You'll die too!" he shouted. It happened. Fast. Unexpected. Jane somehow had a knife - really, a sharpened strip of metal. He waved it around frantically, dangerously. Her assurances that he was safe, that she knew he wouldn't hurt her had no effect. Jane was determined to get the message across. He was dangerous. She would die. He was unreachable, beyond reason.

The clock lied. It showed only ten minutes had passed. Ally knew it was an eternity. Her universe changed. Nothing of Patty was visible in the madman she faced. The monster had left indelible scars. She was desolate in her certainty: She would never have her Patty back.

The nurse quickly hustled her out of the room. A part of her told her not to look back. Another part told her she had to. Her last memory was of three burly orderlies tackling a slender, broken Patrick Jane to the floor. A fourth orderly injected a sedative and his body went limp. She couldn't stay any longer. She did something she never thought she'd do as a professional, as a _doctor_. She ran. She ran because she couldn't bear his pain, his disintegration. She left him to cope with both.

Alone.

**Present**

"That's it. That's good. Breathe into the mask Patty," Ally told him as he finally began to calm down. She knew he was exhausted. His limited ability to take in oxygen made his heart work that much harder. He might as well have been running a marathon for the past 12 hours. The good news was that he was calming down. He had relaxed and when he looked at her she knew that he was cognizant of who she was, where he was.

"Hey. Do you know what's going on?"

"I…I'm having trouble breathing," he gasped.

Ally responded. "Right and that's why you need to take deep breaths. I'm not sure but you may have pneumonia." She saw panic in her friend's eyes. He gripped her shoulder painfully hard and she was more than a little shocked when he started to cry. This wasn't the reaction she sought or expected.

"What's the matter?" she asked. If he could calm down and tell her, it would better his situation.

"I thought he got you. He came here and..and…and…"

"Oh, Patty. No, we're fine. We're all worried about you but we're fine. You weren't thinking clearly because of the fever. We're going to get you into a cool bath to get the fever down. Then when the fire is out, we'll get you help. The oxygen is helping isn't it?"

Ally could see that even though he was far from out of the woods, the oxygen was helping. She had also raided her dad's antibiotics from his knee surgery. She hesitated to give them to Patty. Antibiotics wouldn't work on a viral infection. Even if it were bacterial, without the ability to ID the bacterium, it would be simple luck if it were effective. Nonetheless, she wouldn't rule out anything that might better Patty's chances. She felt him relax as she gently ran her hand through his hair. She knew he liked it and it looked like he was about to slip back into sleep this time - much better than unconsciousness or delirium.

"Lisbon!" he gasped, awake again and struggling to sit upright. He had a nightmare. Red John came back and killed them. Where were they? He knew he was sick but why hadn't he seen Pete or Sam or Lisbon? Did Red John have them and somehow Al had gotten them away safe? That wouldn't surprise him. Al was just as strong as her dad in some ways.

"Patrick," Lisbon swiftly moved to his side.

"Lisbon I…I thought he…."

"It's fine. Nothing to worry about. You can help us by closing your eyes and resting. Sam is just about ready with the tub. Pete and the rest of us will help get you in the tub to bring that fever down. But right now, just relax." She said gently.

Jane's eyelids began to droop and his face went slack as he drifted off. She got up to help Sam when she felt a hand pull at the end of her shirt.

"Don't leave me," he pleaded breathlessly.

"Never, Jane. I'm not going anywhere." She sat back down by his side, hands cradling his so he could take comfort knowing she was there.

Getting Jane up and to the bathroom was difficult, mostly for him. Moving around was an extra strain, an extra demand on an already over-taxed body. Getting him in the tub was involved, difficult. Undress him. Get him into water that was shockingly cold for someone with a high fever. Keep him from slipping, from further harm. Keep the oxygen mask on. Calm him down till the water could bring down his temperature.

Five people in the small bathroom were two or three too many. Pete and Lisbon left Jane's ministrations to Ally and Sam. Now that dawn had broken, they took a quick survey of the wildfire situation. Walking out to the road, fire was no longer visible among a swath of blackened vegetation and scorched trees. Pete's knee wasn't up to it, but Lisbon was able to walk the trail to the ridge top. The view was as beautiful as Jane advertised, but the best part for her was the panorama showing only a small, distant patch of forest still burning. The wildfire was almost contained and burning _away_ from the cabin. Forest Service helicopters were fetching enormous buckets of water from a nearby lake to drop on the fire, to direct it, control it, and ultimately put it out.

This time Pete tried driving down the access road. Fire didn't stop him. The destruction left behind did. He negotiated around downed branches and debris but was soon stopped by a burnt tree trunk. As before, there was no cell signal this far up the road. And the location of the blocking tree trunk was particularly unfortunate: A narrow section of road bordered by ravines on both sides. It might be possible to walk down the road and circumvent the downed tree – this one and however many more there might be. But it wouldn't be quick. And not Pete or Sam or especially Jane had the faintest hope of making that trek. So even if Lisbon or Ally got to the trailer park, the problem of getting Jane out would remain

Ally and Sam tended Jane during the half hour it took for Jane's fever to fall. The tepid bath succeeded, but Jane was more exhausted than ever. Sam got Pete to help get Jane out of the tub, dried, clothed and back onto the couch. Ally took his vital signs once he was settled on the couch again. Jane was lucid, his temperature was below 102 degrees. But he was still short of breath with a much too rapid pulse and much too low blood pressure. Most worrisome, mild cardiac arrhythmia was a new addition to his list of symptoms.. The oxygen tank was running low. Even with enough oxygen, Jane's endurance wasn't limitless. Time was running out.

Pete and Lisbon stood in the clearing around the cabin, smoke scenting the air as they chewed over their options. Decisions made, Pete wet down firewood and brought it into the cabin. Lisbon found sheets and started tearing them into three-foot strips. Soon Pete had a smoky fire blazing in the fireplace, adding warmth to a room that was already too warm. Ally and Sam got damp cloths to put on Jane's face and chest so evaporation would keep him as cool as possible. Lisbon laid out the strips of white sheeting in the clearing, spelling out "SOS."

A helicopter passed over the cabin. Black smoke from the damp firewood attracted attention as evidence of another possible outbreak of wildfire. Lisbon shouted and waved her arms, hoping they could read the SOS. When the helicopter circled for a second pass she shouted in joy. It then left, giving her and Pete an anxious ten minutes till its return. This time it dropped a bright orange, inflated ball with a long streamer into the clearing. Lisbon ran to it, grinning as she extracted a walkie-talkie from the air-cushioned emergency package.

An hour later, Jane, Ally and Lisbon had been air-lifted out of the clearing. The clearing was too small for a helicopter to land, but the lowered rescue basket allowed all three to be brought up to the helicopter, one at a time. Pete and Sam chose to stay at the cabin. Crews would clear the road in a day or two, and they had everything they needed till then. Lisbon left a walkie-talkie in case the road couldn't be cleared and they needed help or rescue. Now that the authorities knew they were trapped up there, the road would be cleared or they would be rescued as well.

They were delivered to the Carson Springs hospital that had a helipad. Jane would finally get the hospital care he needed.


	4. Chapter 4 -Breathless

**Chapter 4: Breathless  
**

The view from the helicopter was breathtaking but Lisbon didn't care. She was too busy keeping a frightened Patrick Jane calm. He said he could breathe a little better so she thought it might be because of the helicopter. She remembered he had said he enjoyed their last ride together, but he lied. When they got out she could tell that he hadn't liked it as much as he had claimed.

"Okay Patty," Ally yelled above the whupping noise of the blades and growl of the engine, "We're about to land. Everything is going to happen fast and you might feel a little disoriented. We're going to do this as quickly as possible to get you some relief. Lisbon, you won't be allowed into the treatment area but I'll come out and tell you everything as soon as I can."

As smoothly as clockwork and as inevitable as time, events hurtled along just as Ally described. They landed, the stretcher with Jane was unloaded, and he was rapidly wheeled away. Lisbon felt bereft. She knew it was irrational, but felt Jane would be okay so long as she was with him. Seeing him wheeled through the double doors into the treatment area recalled events from 30 years ago. After disappearing through the emergency room doors, Lisbon never saw her mother alive again. She took a few paces toward those doors, only to be gently guided away by an orderly who was clearing the path for another emergency patient being wheeled in.

Dazed, Lisbon made her way to the clerk's desk to answer insurance questions, medical history, next of kin. Finished, she sank into a chair in the waiting room. First, everything was happening too quickly. Now, time crawled. Several minutes later a nurse emerged. After verifying Lisbon's connection to Jane, she handed Lisbon a plastic bag - Jane's personal effects. Hospital policies were geared to getting wallets, clothes, and the like into the hands of the accompanying relatives, thus minimizing the chances they would be misplaced or stolen. Lisbon was about to go through Jane's things, to find his wallet and anything else she might need to deal the with administrivia of Jane's being hospitalized. Her phone rang, interrupting her, startling her after being out of the service for so long.

"Hello," she answered.

"Thank god, Boss. Wayne and I were following the fire on the news when we realized it was in the carny layover area. We worried when we couldn't get hold of you or Jane. Are you guys alright?"

"Everything happened so fast. We were having a barbeque and - can you believe it, all of this talk about Al and she's a she? A woman he grew up with. She was telling me stories about their childhood and it all went to hell fast," she rambled.

Slowly, deliberately. "The fire. Were you trapped in the fire? Are you okay? Is Jane okay?" Van Pelt asked intensely, alarmed. Normally, Lisbon was the last person who would be dazed, incoherent. _What the hell happened to throw her so off balance?_

Lisbon's focus was on watching those doors to the treatment area. Van Pelt got the remaining sliver of her attention. "It wasn't the flu. All last week I thought he was just being silly about the flu–"

Frustrated, "Who, Boss? Jane?"

"-It was pneumonia. They airlifted us here. I can't go back there with him. I can't do anything, damn it!" Frustrated, her voice rose in pitch and volume.

"Jane's being treated. Which hospital are you at?" she asked deliberately. It was an emergency and it was Jane. Van Pelt and Lisbon had become closer in the past few months. After Lisbon and Jane had publicly become a couple - public to the extent of the team - Van Pelt knew it would ease the work situation for her and Rigsby. The Lisbon who "didn't do personal" had become a lot more flexible over the years. This was the last step in blending and balancing work with the personal. Lisbon openly took Rigsby's obligations as a father into account in work assignments. Lisbon remained scrupulously even-handed about the workload, and assignments were always based on the team member best suited for the task. But life was easier now that Lisbon consciously factored the personal in as much as possible.

"Carson Springs General Hospital. He's with the doctor now. They just gave me his clothes and I'm waiting for Ally to come back out. She's a doctor, Grace. Thank God or he might not have made it this long."

Grateful for the first practical bit of information, Van Pelt realized Lisbon had to be working on no sleep and coping with a serious emergency with Jane. "Boss, do you need us there? I don't know how long it would take because of the fire detours."

More calmly, "No, just wait. I'll know more in a little while. By tomorrow maybe you can see him."

She was encouraged that Lisbon was calmer, finally sounding more like herself. She couldn't resist asking, "Did you guys get to talk? Wayne said there was a view Jane wanted to show you. Did you get to see it?"

"No." Her throat tightened and her voice rose remembering Jane's problems on the path. "We never got the chance. Listen, I'm going to go find out how he's doing. I'll call back when I know more."

"Sure, Boss. Let us know anything we can do and when you want us there."

"I will. Thanks."

Van Pelt sat in her kitchen and worried. Lisbon was exhausted and so frightened for Jane she wasn't able to set aside her emotions like she usually did. _Crap. Just when they're getting somewhere, just when Jane had plans. God, I hope he's gonna be all right._

**Flashback**

They were having lunch in the park. It was something they did every third Saturday of the month. Much to her surprise, Van Pelt and Jane had become close friends over time. He intrigued her and she amused him. Their relationship was based on and informed by years as colleagues. Van Pelt was less naive than she was when she started. Since then her intelligence, guts, and computer expertise earned her the respect of the team and especially Jane.

In turn, Van Pelt thought Jane had changed a lot. Or, perhaps she had changed, forcing a different understanding of Jane. She gradually saw beyond the smart-ass cockiness to his unending pain and guilt over his family's murder. And, despite his best efforts, he failed to completely hide his generosity and loyalty to the team and – especially – Lisbon. When they first met, Van Pelt was inclined to buy into his belief that he was responsible for the murder of his family by Red John. Her own tragedy with the aforementioned monster tempered that judgment. Red John was responsible for Red John's crimes - no one else. Meanwhile, to her mind, the good Jane did by solving innumerable crimes and preventing new murders overwhelmingly offset any slight responsibility for triggering the actions of an evil psychopath. She was now proud to call Patrick Jane a friend.

"Okay so what's the topic of the day? And why are we at the park instead of your place or the bistro you know I love so much?" Van Pelt asked innocently.

"Because those are places Teresa might pop up unexpectedly. I didn't want her around when I showed you this," Jane answered, taking a velvet box from his pocket.

The ring inside was stunning. Where Van Pelt had expected a diamond of some kind was a brilliant emerald. Beautiful for itself, it would bring out the flecks in Teresa's eyes. Some people might think Jane was rushing since he and Lisbon had only started dating a few weeks ago. Van Pelt wondered what took him so damned long.

"Oh, Jane, I'm flattered but Wayne and I–" she joked. She dropped the act and laughed when he nudged her shoulder.

"Do you think she'll like it?" he asked. By nature and training, Jane's total orientation was toward people – understanding them, reading them, manipulating them. It was a gift to again have trusted friends, friends close enough to share important moments in his life. Van Pelt was the perfect mirror, reflecting and augmenting his joy in anticipating this step with Lisbon. Her unqualified enthusiasm and youthful - but no longer callow - romanticism perfectly complemented his mood.

"Jane, no, she won't like it. She'll love it. I can't wait to hear from her afterward. She's going to flip."

Van Pelt just hoped to God that her friend had healed enough from the murders to go through with it, to slip that ring on Lisbon's finger. They were finally finding happiness. They just couldn't delay it, couldn't lose it now.

Returning to the present, she called, "Wayne, we need to pack a few things. We're going for a drive. Lisbon needs us." Rigsby woke from his nap in the living room and stretched. He wasn't surprised there was a problem after his boss and Jane had been out of contact the last two days, longer than expected.

**Carson Springs**

Ally Turner was exhausted but Patty was doing better. She looked through the window to the treatment room. He still looked pretty alarmed at the contraption helping him breathe, but it was better than the alternative. He didn't want to be intubated. She understand that but worried that soon he might not have that choice. If it came to that, he wouldn't be making that decision - Lisbon would.

Ally knew it was time to update Lisbon on what was going on. All things considered, Ally was happy Jane was brought here. She grew up in Carson Springs and knew the hospital well. Though old and in a bad part of town, she knew it was well equipped for his condition and the staff was good. He would get good care here.

Lisbon was about to go through Jane's effects when Ally came from the treatment area where she had disappeared seemingly a lifetime ago.

"How is he?"

"He's not in critical condition but he's not stable. The pneumonia was viral as I suspected, and he's on antiviral medication to help overcome the infection. There are other drugs to suppress the inflamation, thin the secretions, and a mild sedative to keep him calm. Once the infection is tamed, he will gradually recover. So far, I don't think a drainage tube is necessary for pleural effusion or abscess."

"So it was pneumonia?"

"Teresa, I don't know how he made it to the barbeque. It's bilateral pneumonia - both lungs. His arterial oxygen level was dangerously low. His breathing is still labored and we put him on a BiPAP machine." She frowned then thought to ask, "Do you know what that is?"

"Actually I do. It's used for sleep apnea. Right?"

"Very good. Yes it is. A mask completely covers his nose and mouth. There is no tube or anything down his throat, so you two will be able to talk when you see him. In fact, if he's willing, it would be helpful to get him to talk. If not conversation, see if he'll watch TV. The distraction will get his mind off of what's happening."

"What is the machine doing?"

"Well in long intervals air is literally blown in his face at high speed. It is forced down his airway to open up his chest so he can breathe. This helps in many cases. The more successful we are at opening up his airway, the more effective the vaporized medications and other breathing treatments will be. Of course, the positive air pressure helps him breathe, as well. We'll try this for the next 2 to 3 hours."

"So this might not be enough? If this doesn't work, then what?" she asked nervously.

"Dr. Jameson is a pulmonary specialist who's also working on his case. If this doesn't work, she thinks he'll need a ventilator."

Lisbon stiffened, resisting the information, the lack of certainty. And she didn't care for this version of Ally Turner. This Ally wasn't the woman she had by her side all night helping Jane. This Ally was giving her doctor-speak, what Jane called "that creepy, cold doctor vibe." With calm detachment, Ally was telling her Jane might have to go on a ventilator, a form of life support. Her rational part realized the professional detachment was necessary, just the same as it is for cops. Emotions were a handicap when cold logic was best for dealing with a crisis. The warm, in-love-with-Patrick part, however, was scared by the detachment. Irrational or not, she couldn't help but want Jane's doctor to be passionately committed to his recovery. Lisbon swallowed with difficulty and tried to set aside the tsunami of emotion that was drowning her ability to think. She shook her head, realizing she needed to focus on the doctor's assessment and recommendations rather than indulge in useless emotional reactions.

"-I really hope the current treatment will be effective. I don't want to put him on a ventilator." Ally looked away for a moment. Contrary to Lisbon's silent rant, Lisbon realized Ally was struggling to maintain that calm detachment needed for her job. "Of course, intubation and a ventilator can have undesirable side effects that aren't a risk with a simple BiPAP. Let's both hope this works." She took Lisbon by the elbow, "Come on, he's asking for you. Things look a lot scarier than they are so you'll need your game face."

Spine straight and shoulders back, Lisbon walked into the room with Ally. She was still taken aback despite the warning.

**Sacramento**

"Are you sure we should be going there?" Rigsby asked his wife from the passenger side.

"You didn't hear her, Rigs. This is Lisbon and yet she's going crazy. I don't think Jane is doing well. We have to be there for her. For the both of them," she told him punching the gas. Lisbon told her to wait till the next day, but it sounded to her like Lisbon needed them now. And with Jane helpless in a hospital, they still couldn't afford to assume away any Red John risk.

**Carson Springs**

Lisbon was laughing. Jane was doing better, which helped her ignore the cumbersome face mask, tube, and machine. From the part of his face she could see, he was getting some color back. Jane had drunk half a cola and they were waiting on some pie. He tried the tea but made a face after one sip. She asked him if his breathing was better. He assured her it was, although he seemed a bit out of it.

The door opened. Lisbon smiled, thinking it was the helpful nurse who had scrounged tea and then pie for Jane. Her smile faded as she saw it was Ally with several other people.

"What's going on?" She wasn't surprised when Jane took her hand, his familiar response when scared or hurt.

"The monitors show that the BiPAP machine isn't helping. Well, it isn't helping enough." Ally turned and spoke directly to Jane. "Patty, your blood oxygen levels aren't rising enough. Unless we take more effective measures, you risk a heart attack and, eventually, other organ failure. Dr. Jameson and I agree a ventilator is necessary."

"No!" came the muffled protest from the bed. Jane tried to rise, but was gently restrained by two of the people who accompanied Ally.

Lisbon stroked his arm. "Jane, take it easy. Let me talk for you." He relaxed against the bed, still tense and frowning. The medical personnel stepped back and tension in the room eased.

Lisbon turned to face the doctor. "Ally, I've been talking with Patrick for the last two hours. He feels better. How can he need a ventilator?"

"Lisbon – Teresa, I'm sure he is feeling better than he was at the cabin. But that's not the right basis for this decision. The monitoring shows he is gradually losing ground. The strain on his heart is of increasing concern as well. I told you I don't want to do this unless necessary. But it _is_ necessary. This literally can save his life."

'But he's refusing that treatment."

Ally took a deep breath. "His blood oxygen levels are so low that the patient's – Patty's – decisions are not deemed fully competent. As his medical proxy, the decision is yours to make."

Hand still on Jane's arm, Lisbon felt him tense at her words. She looked at his face. She knew he was scared. Jane hated hospitals, hated being out of control, hated not being able to speak. His mother had died of leukemia when he was ten, the start of his lifelong aversion to doctors and hospitals. His stay in the asylum after the murders transformed the aversion into acute fear of being hospitalized.

"Ally, give us a minute alone, please." She waited till she and Jane were alone.

"Jane – Patrick, I know you're afraid of this." She could feel him shudder under her hand. "I talked with Ally. And it's not just her, Dr. Jameson is a pulmonary specialist. You know that?"

He nodded but didn't say anything.

"What they say makes sense. If the current treatment isn't working, you have to let them do something that will work." He looked away. "Jane! You're risking a heart attack, and that certainly is life-threatening. Other organs can shut down without effective treatment." He shook his head. He didn't have any counter arguments, but clearly wasn't willing.

She bit her lip. "Jane, we're finally going to try to have that future together. I love you and want that. Don't you? Give yourself, give us, the best chance to have that." He swallowed, still unwilling to face her. After a moment, he nodded. His grip was painfully tight.

Lisbon stepped outside the room. "Do it." Ally looked at her, relief and gratitude plain in her eyes. _So much for professional detachment_, Lisbon thought, but was comforted anyway.

Ally told one of the respiratory therapists that they would be proceeding with the ventilator. "First we're going to give him a sedative. He'll go to sleep. The RT team will intubate him and put him on the ventilator. He'll probably sleep for the rest of the day and maybe some of the night, so don't be alarmed. It's normal to cough and try to get a foreign object out of the throat. He'll remain on sedatives to minimize that reaction, but he will be conscious. He won't be able to talk as long as the breathing tube is in place."

"Uh, how – how long will he have to remain on it?"

"That depends on how quickly he responds. Hopefully, no longer than a day or two. Patients ready to come off a ventilator must be stable with normal temperature and vital signs, and be capable of coughing up secretions. Because of the bilateral pneumonia, we'll take special care to be sure he's getting enough oxygen as we wean him from the machine. He may still need BiPAP or CPAP for awhile after. Believe me, we don't want a patient on a vent any longer than necessary because of the risk of side effects."

Acutely aware she was responsible for making the best decisions possible for Jane, Lisbon asked the obvious question. "Like what?"

Ally grimaced, clearly not wanting to raise her anxiety about problems that might not occur at all. "Ironically, the main ones are pneumonia and trauma. Elderly patients on a ventilator often acquire pneumonia. Also, a ventilator can cause lung damage, a pneumothorax - where air escapes into the chest cavity, and abrasions to the trachea or vocal cords. Patrick is young and in good health other than the pneumonia. There's every reason to be optimistic."

"Thank you," Lisbon said coolly.

Ally was working hard to maintain her professionalism but she couldn't do this to Lisbon. Ally had always promised herself she would balance professional detachment with treating patients and their families with empathy. She leaned in and offered Lisbon a hug. Lisbon accepted. Ally wasn't shocked when she hugged her back. Lisbon needed this comfort and Ally saw no reason not to give it to her.

Lisbon went back into the room with Ally. "it's going to be okay Patrick. I'm right here," Lisbon told him. She noted the sedative injected into his IV line was already taking effect.

Ally touched her arm. "When he wakes up he'll be on the ventilator. You'll be able to stay in here with him. But now I need you to wait in the hall while we do this procedure."

"No! I promised I'd stay." She glanced at Jane. His eyes were closed and he showed no signs of being conscious.

"You don't have to prove how strong you are. If I didn't have to be, I wouldn't be in here."

Lisbon looked back to the bed that the RT team was currently flattening. One person removed a long tube from its sealed packaging while another opened Jane's mouth and positioned his head back. Lisbon grabbed the bag of Jane's clothing and fled the room. Safely in the hallway, she leaned against the wall and tried to calm down. She still couldn't believe he was this sick. And she was falling apart! A pleasant holiday to a life-threatening emergency within one day. A sleepless night hoping they could get help in time. And now she was making life and death medical decisions for Jane. _Crap. Based on this holiday, the relationship thing is certainly overrated. _She shook her head. _Jane's gonna be okay, _she tried to convince herself.

She tried to stop her hands from shaking when his things spilled from the plastic bag. She picked up his shirt then noticed the small, velvet box underneath. She opened the box. Tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. Far from questioning the relationship, after seeing the ring she decided there was no way Jane wouldn't get better. He had to so she could be his wife.


	5. Chapter 5 - Recovery

**Chapter 5: Recovery**

Van Pelt and Rigsby arrived at the hospital a good bit later than she intended. Rigsby was supposed to take care of Ben during the weekend. Even though it was only Thursday, he didn't know how long they might be out of town and negotiating with Sarah took awhile. Rigsby re-lived his bittersweet epiphany - how the wonderful gift of his son would have been offset by marrying his mother, a woman simply not right for him. In his less poetic moments, he was plain glad not to be saddled with Sarah's cutting tongue and relentless domination.

They found the right floor, the right direction, and Lisbon. Pale and exhausted, she slumped against the corridor wall.

"Boss," Van Pelt said softly, touching her arm.

Lisbon straightened, snapped a small box shut, and dropped it back in the plastic bag. "Van Pelt, Rigsby. What're you doing here?"

Rigsby replied, "Situation sounded a little dicey. Thought maybe we could help. What've we got?"

Lisbon led them to a nearby visiting room. She gratefully sipped the take-out coffee Van Pelt offered her, then explained events from the Fourth to the present.

"...So Jane has a bad case of pneumonia. He's being put on a ventilator right now. If that gets enough oxygen and medicine into his lungs, his prognosis is good."

"And if not?" Van Pelt couldn't help but ask.

"Then they're talking serious complications. They'll know which way it's going after a day or two." She got up and glanced down the hall. The RT team was leaving Jane's room. "Looks like they're done with Jane. I promised I'd stay with him."

All three entered Jane's room. Van Pelt and Rigsby paused in the doorway in unwelcome surprise at the tubing and electrical leads connecting various bulky machines to a pale and unconscious Patrick Jane. Jane was still except for the regular, mechanical rise and fall of his chest. Silent except for the softly beeping cardiac monitor. Lisbon stood by his bed, brushed hair back from his forehead, and just looked, satisfying herself that everything seemed in control and as expected for the moment. She rubbed her face with both hands, events and lack of sleep catching up with her.

"Boss, we're here to lighten the load. You look beat. How about I take first watch while you get some food and sleep? Here, I brought clean clothes, too." Lisbon hesitated a moment. Van Pelt gently urged, "You said the doctor predicted he'd sleep till tomorrow. Wouldn't you rather be fresh when he wakes up?"

Sigh. "Yeah. One of you stay with him all the time. You know how he is with hospitals and I had to bludgeon him into agreeing to the ventilator. Who knows how he'll react with all the sedatives they've been mainlining."

"Will do." Lisbon took another long look at Jane, turned and tiredly walked away.

"Babe, I'll do the first watch. Lisbon didn't talk about it but Red John could come after Jane."

Rigsby tilted his head noncommittally. "No activity by him for a year, but we can't risk guessing wrong. I'll get some food for us. Then I'll poke around outside or nap in the extra chair till my turn."

Jane shifted position slightly now and then while he slept. Every few hours a nurse checked to verify the equipment was functioning properly, add new IV bags, empty the Foley catheter bag, and make sure no new problems had arisen.

Rigsby took over at 10:00 p.m., leaving Grace to get dinner and rest. Lisbon showed up shortly after, looking better but far from fully rested. She stayed and talked a while. Although she called his name, Jane still didn't wake. She was relieved he looked less exhausted. The ventilator more effectively supplied him with oxygen and reduced the work his body had to do, easing the strain. Still tired, Lisbon left after an hour to get more sleep.

Jane woke around 2 a.m., flailing in alarm at the breathing tube and inability to speak. Rigsby held his shoulders, forcing him to be still. Jane quieted as Rigsby explained what was going on. Jane relaxed in relief when Rigsby told him Lisbon would be by later when she woke. After a moment, Rigsby realized Jane wanted paper and pen. Jane was too loopy from the sedatives to write well on the small scratch pad, so Rigsby scrounged a full-sized pad of paper from the nurses' station outside the door. A nurse entered soon after. She helped Jane sit more upright in bed, moistened his lips with a damp cloth, and made other small adjustments for comfort.

Jane and Rigsby passed the next hour in conversation, Jane writing and Rigsby speaking.

"Why am I here?'

"Jane, you got pneumonia and need hospital care."

"I'm breathing fine."

"No, the machine is breathing for you. See?" Rigsby pointed out the obvious.

"Did I have pneumonia before?"

"No."

"Then who gave it to me?"

"Uh, you were with your carny friends, Pete and Sam. And Ally, I guess."

"They're my friends. Why would they give me something horrible?"

"God, Jane. It's just a figure of speech. You just came down with it when you happened to be with them."

"If not them, then who? Was it a case?"

"Yeah, well you had the flu and it turned into pneumonia."

"That's transmutation. Something can't be one thing and something else, too."

"Jane, are you jerking me around?"

"I'm sick and you're hiding things."

Rigsby ran his hand through his hair. "Jane, go back to sleep. You'll get well faster."

"Not tired. I feel kinda good."

"Those are the drugs."

"Don't take drugs."

"The drugs your doctor's giving you in your IV line."

Jane's eyes opened wide and round. "My doctor's pushing drugs? Arrest him."

"Medicine, Jane. Medicine."

"Why?"

"The sedatives help you tolerate the breathing tube."

"I don't like it. When can I get rid of it?"

"Your doctor will take it out when you can breathe on your own."

"How will they know with this stupid tube down my throat?"

Rigsby squeezed Jane's arm and turned away. "Conversation's over. Here's the remote if you want to watch TV."

Tired after trying to make sense of it all, Jane turned his head and drifted off. Rigsby turned down the lights again, enjoying the break from Jane's insanity. A while later, a commotion at the far end of the corridor attracted his attention. He stepped out of the room to check it out, disappearing around the corner for a moment. When he returned Jane was awake and alert. He tapped his ring on the metal bed rail and Rigsby handed him the paper and pen.

Jane wrote, "What was that?"

"A patient was yelling about something. The nurses quieted him down." He glanced to the corner where Van Pelt had been dozing. She was rubbing her eyes, just having woken.

"No. Why was Zorro in here?"

"What?"

"Black clothes, black boots, mask. Signs with a sword. TV. Or movie?"

Rigsby looked at Van Pelt. He hadn't see anyone. And after that conversation with Jane, he wasn't sure how seriously to take anything Jane said.

Van Pelt stood up, frowning. "Uh, I was asleep, but something woke me up. It wasn't a nurse, no white clothing."

Rigsby's expression hardened. "Got your weapon?" She nodded. "Stay with Jane. I'm gonna check out this floor."

He returned a few minutes later. "Nothing, but it makes me nervous. Where's Lisbon sleeping?"

"Room 432, a crash room for residents - doctors on call. Wayne, you stay here. It's easier for me to go than give directions."

Ten minutes later Van Pelt returned with Lisbon. Jane brightened at the sight of Lisbon. She gave him a quick smile and squeezed his hand, but immediately turned to her team. They gave a succinct account of what just happened - or rather, what _might_ have happened.

After a moment's thought, "That's not enough to warrant a larger search." Lisbon glanced apologetically at Jane and Van Pelt. "We're not even sure what you two saw. We'll keep watch here in shifts till Jane's discharged. Challenge anyone who comes in. I'll let the head nurse know why we're being so suspicious. And watch yourselves, too. Use the facilities in here. Anyplace small and closed off is ideal for a trap. We go in two's for food or anything else." They nodded, but there was nothing to do immediately. Lisbon asked the nurse on duty for an extra chair so they could all sit – two regular chairs, one reclining chair.

Lisbon relieved Rigsby Friday morning at six. Rigsby and Van Pelt left to get their go-bags from their SUV. By 8:00 a.m., Ally appeared to check over Jane.

"How's he doing, Ally?"

"Not quite back to normal, but making progress. His arterial oxygen's much better." She looked at Jane and gave him a smile. "Patty, you're looking a lot better, too. Feel better?"

He nodded, then motioned to the ventilator and raised his eyebrows.

"Patty, we'll see what the x-rays show. I'll get you off the ventilator as soon as your body can supply enough oxygen on its own. Meanwhile, having the machine do the work is your chance to recover from the strain since Wednesday."

"Ally, take me though the next couple of steps?" Lisbon interjected. "I'd like some idea of how long I'm gonna need my team here."

"Well, his temperature's down and other vitals are within normal ranges. If the chest x-rays look good, we may try weaning him from the ventilator this afternoon."

"How's that done?"

"Turn the ventilator off, starting for 10 minutes and working up to longer periods. When it's clear he can take in enough oxygen on his own, and his breathing isn't labored, we can switch to CPAP. If that goes well, he can probably be discharged a day later."

"Does that mean he's well?"

"He'll need to take some prescriptions. Antibiotics to ensure there's no new go-round with pneumonia from bacteria introduced by the endotracheal tube, an anti-inflammatory, and a prescription to thin the secretions so he can clear his lungs. Above all, he needs to rest and take it easy for a few weeks. I'll want to see him at least once or twice after, too," she said staring at Jane but Jane looked as though he had spaced out again during the long explanation.

"So, for today, wait till noon for test results. And see if you'll try to wean him from the ventilator."

"Yep."

"Anything from Pete and Sam?"

"No cell service, remember? They have that walkie talkie, so I'm sure I would hear if there's a problem. –Look, I have to go. I'm trading rounds here with someone covering for me at my hospital. I'll be back at noon." She moved to leave, then turned and said, "Patty, my boyfriend is looking forward to meeting you. He wants to meet my 'partner in crime.'"

Jane grinned as much as he could around the tube, eyes glinting in amusement. Lisbon snorted softly. _Jane must be feeling better. Cheered up at the thought of a new victim to torment._

Ally left them. Lisbon looked at Jane, wanting to make him feel better somehow, but there was little she could do. The tube prevented him from eating or drinking. He was too loopy to read or even have much of a conversation. Lisbon had read Jane's responses to Rigs on the paper pad. Then she took her own stroll with Jane in Alice in Wonderland. Jane was convinced the Pink Panther was one of the respiratory therapy techs. She had no idea how that idea germinated in his fertile brain but saw no point in even trying to have a conversation.

Unless Jane wanted to watch TV, she'd prefer to leave it off as the inane noise was annoying – unless she was in the mood for mindless entertainment, but she wasn't. She settled for sitting next to Jane as he intermittently dozed. Even sleeping, he smiled faintly when she brushed the hair off his forehead or held his hand. Softly, "Oh, Jane. You attract trouble and leave chaos in your wake. God help me, but that's one of the reasons I love you." Eyes closed, his lips curled in a smile.

With little else to do, she got up and rummaged through the bag of his personal effects again. _Hmph. At least they didn't cut off his clothing this time. He can wear the same clothes... _She found the velvet box. Reseating herself by Jane, she opened it, alternating between admiring it and admiring Jane._ It's been forever since he first came to the CBI. An engagement ring. Life together._ Her eyebrows elevated toward her hairline. _No matter what else, it's never boring._ She returned the box to the pocket in his shorts then leaned back, frowning. _But what was that? Was there someone here? Red John? _Her stomach clenched unpleasantly at the thought._ A disciple? Can we really have a life with a serial killer always in the background? Would we dare to have a family? Oh, God. If Red John's hunting Jane - and me? - again, will Jane even want to continue? Damn. We need to talk as soon as Jane's off the drugs._

Her cell phone rang, startling her. "Lisbon," she answered. She glanced at Jane but he remained asleep.

"Boss, Wayne and I were getting our bags. It seemed like someone was lurking around, but there was nothing when we checked."

"Where are you now?"

"Back in the hospital. We found a patio where we could eat our take-out. We'll be up in a few minutes. Just thought I should tell you."

Lisbon sighed. "Thanks. Makes me uneasy, but there's still nothing actionable."

"We'll be up in a few. We'll bring coffee."

"Thanks."

Noon arrived fast on the heels of Ally. She went through the test results with Lisbon. Of course, the details meant little to Lisbon, but the chest x-rays were dramatic. Ally pointed out the large, dark areas that would be light for healthy lungs, chilling Lisbon with the visual evidence of how sick Jane had been. The x-rays taken this morning were dramatically better.

"See? Still some dark areas, but much of the congestion has cleared up."

"So?"

"So, let's see how well he can do if we cut back on the ventilator support." Ally decided to have the respiratory team begin the weaning process.

Alert and following their conversation closely, Jane was eager to get on with it. He reminded them the hard way that he wasn't mentally a hundred percent. Jane gave a gentle, experimental tug on the breathing tube with the predictable result of pain and discomfort. Somehow it was worse that he could make no sound with the tube in place.

"Geez, Jane!" Lisbon looked to Ally. "Did he hurt himself?"

Ally took a deep breath, working hard to maintain professional detachment. "Patty, don't do that. We'll help you when the time comes." She peered at his mouth around the tube with the help of a small flashlight, but couldn't tell much._ At least there's no gross trauma._ Looking him in the eyes, "On a scale of one to ten with ten the worst, how bad does your throat hurt?"

Subdued, Jane held up three fingers. Ally sighed in relief. "Don' t touch that again," she said sternly. "The team will be in here in a few minutes to start the process. We'll check in three hours to see what effect breathing on your own has on your blood chemistry and vital signs. Relax and just breathe normally when the machine is off. Okay?" She waited till he nodded, then left.

Van Pelt was on duty at four in the afternoon when the test was finished. Lisbon and Rigsby showed up, followed by Ally, test printouts in hand. Jane was dozing. The test had taken a lot out of him.

"Patty, Lisbon. I think it's best to continue with the ventilator till tomorrow morning. Patty, you did okay, but after the strain earlier this week, it's not a good idea to rush things."

Lisbon rubbed his arm, trying to provide comfort at the disappointing decision. "So, what happens tomorrow?"

"The same thing. New diagnostic tests right away. We can start a new weaning trial without waiting for the results. The tests are simply to track his progress. Rest and relax, Patty. See you tomorrow."

Jane cheered up slightly at the books of puzzles Rigsby and Van Pelt brought. As spacey as he was, Lisbon wasn't confident he would be up to solving them, but it would give him something to do. From what she could see, Jane spent his whole life on a quest to avoid boredom. _Hmm. Gotta remember that. If I can supply enough puzzles, maybe it'll limit the messes I have to clean up._

Cho called that evening, back from a short trip with his girlfriend. Curious when he realized none of the team was around, he decided to call. Rigsby filled him in but, after asking Lisbon, told him to stay in Sacramento. The three of them were enough to cover the watch schedule and it looked like Jane would be discharged soon anyhow. The evening and night passed without incident.

* * *

Ally ordered the tests and another weaning trial bright and early at 8:00 a.m. on Saturday. This time it was successful. The RT team removed the endotrachael tube at one p.m. Jane was glad to be rid of it, though the process was as unpleasant as he had imagined. The ventilator was replaced by a simple CPAP mask and machine. With the greater mobility, Ally ordered the IV and Foley catheter discontinued as well, cheering him no end. The nurse even helped him shower and shave his three-day stubble. Lisbon, Rigsby and Van Pelt finally were allowed back in.

Lisbon gave him a wide smile. "Jane, it's about time I saw your face without all the medical paraphernalia." He pulled the CPAP mask aside and invited a kiss, which she gladly supplied. "How do you feel?"

He replied, a bit hoarse, "Like I just had a long tube pulled out of me. –Okay, I guess." She gave him the cup of warm tea – warm because she knew his throat would be raw. He smiled. "Better. Thank you," he said in relief at the first tea he had in several days. Van Pelt and Rigsby crowded around as well. In the middle of what felt like a celebration, Pete and Same Turner knocked and came in.

Sam looked Jane over critically, then smiled, "You'll do, Patrick. Sure look better than you did a couple of days ago."

"You're okay, the cabin's okay?"

"Fine," Pete replied. "Fire was completely out yesterday. It just took the crews a while to clear the road."

"Here, Patrick. You never did get your pie." Sam cut and handed out pieces of Lisbon's pie on paper plates. She also brought plasticware. "Teresa, your pie safe is in the car."

Pete added, "We drove separately so I could drop off the Citroen. Thought you might want it sometime soon."

Jane smiled, finally healthy and feeling good although all the activity was catching up with him. Ally looked in. By then everyone had finished eating. Noticing Jane's fatigue, she shooed them all out except Lisbon, reminding them it was still a hospital and Patty was still under her care till fully recovered. Lisbon swapped watch shifts with Van Pelt to stay with Jane until evening. Ally gave Jane a kiss on his cheek.

"Patty, you're over the hump. You're gonna be fine, so long as you take it easy and give yourself time to get completely well."

"Ally, thank you. You're a good doctor."

Sadness shadowed her face for a moment and then she smiled again. "Thanks for giving me the chance, Patty."

He was curious about the sadness, but set it aside. "Clearly the best investment I ever made."

She swallowed thickly. "You have one more night here, Patty. I'll check on you in the morning and then you can go home. Keep wearing that CPAP mask till then or I won't let you go," she warned.

He grinned. "I bet you wouldn't." Lisbon smacked him on the arm and he gave an exaggerated flinch. "Okay, okay. I'll behave." Lisbon snorted in disbelief.

Ally gave him a smile and left, going to join her parents for a late lunch.

Lisbon and Jane were finally alone. Lisbon leaned over and hugged him. "What am I gonna do with you? You get in more trouble than any three people I know," she murmured.

He hugged back, smoothing her hair then kissing her cheek, her lips, her neck. "Teresa, I hope you'll stick with me and keep me out of trouble."

She drew back. "Now _that_ is an impossible dream."

"You're a tough cop. You'll whip me into shape. You always do."

"I always try. A little cooperation would be nice."

"I'm sorry about this week. Didn't mean to put you through so much."

She frowned at him. "I'm assuming you didn't know you had pneumonia." He shook his head. "Well, then, I just need to keep closer tabs on you so you don't run yourself into the ground."

"Hmm." By now she was half lying on the hospital bed with him. He kissed her softly, "Pot to kettle. Maybe we should find better things to do than work all the time."

"Oh yeah? Have something in mind?"

"I can think of a few things. If we each diligently distract each other, maybe we'll manage a personal life instead of sacrificing ourselves for the greater good of the CBI – uh, pardon me, - for the greater good of Gale Bertram's career."

She drew back. "Ugh. You really know how to paint an ugly picture!"

"It is, isn't it? So you gonna change your workaholic ways?"

"I'm not the one who drove all night with the flu so it could turn into pneumonia!"

"Mmmm. You may have point at that."

Face suddenly serious, "Jane, what about Red John?"

Eyebrows raised, "What about him?"

"You were on sedatives, but you remember you and Grace thought you saw someone yesterday who could be Red John – or maybe a disciple?"

"I remember. We need to be careful, but frankly, My Dear, I don't give a damn."

She grinned at the shameless plagiarism. Then serious again. "Talk to me, Jane. What are we going to do?"

"Told you. We're going to be careful. And we're going to live our lives. We - or I that is – have already wasted too many years on him. I want to live focused on goodness and life - that's you - rather than evil and death."

"Not gonna change your mind?"

"Nope."

They lay together for awhile, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. Eventually she got up. "Hey. You're not going to get out of here if you don't get that mask back on and get well. Ally knows you too well to cut you any slack."

Reluctantly, "Mmmm, okay, I guess. Stay here?"

"I'm gonna ask the nurse to see about getting you some food. You haven't eaten in three days."

"Now that you mention it..."

Jane was discharged noon the next day. Van Pelt and Rigsby left immediately after. Lisbon and Jane left a bit later in the Citroen. They had lunch at a nice restaurant that Jane knew of on the way back to Sacramento. Then he had her pull off the road at a scenic park.

"Teresa."

"Hmm?"

"Turn around."

She did, surprised he was kneeling before her.

"Teresa, will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, I'll marry you, Patrick. I've waited ten years for you to be mine." He slipped the brilliant green ring on her finger. She threw her arms around him in a hug so tight he again had trouble breathing. This time it was for all the right reasons.

Holding her, face buried in her hair, he murmured, "Then I'm the happiest and luckiest man alive."


End file.
